


heart to heart and hand in hand

by ratherbefree



Category: Community (TV), Lovely Little Losers, Nothing Much to Do
Genre: 25 Days of Fic-mas, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-03 16:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 22,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8720182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherbefree/pseuds/ratherbefree
Summary: 25 drabbles leading up to Christmas Day. Fandoms/characters/relationships etc to be updated when necessary. Final: Community, "happy new year."





	1. (community) not as if hell froze over

**Author's Note:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Britta Perry  
> relationship: n/a  
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by @gaybritta on tumblr

It was a normal Tuesday, but for whatever reason, Britta woke up feeling weird. She had had a headache the night before and so had ended up retiring to bed early the previous night, so it couldn’t be from lack of sleep. She couldn’t remember drinking yesterday, either, so she wasn’t hungover. 

Yet still, when she woke up just before her alarm and lay there for a few minutes, relishing the little extra time she had before she had to actually _get_ up, she couldn’t help but feel strange. 

No - not strange. _Refreshed._ She felt refreshed. God, when was the last time that happened? 

\--------

She had fully expected it to have worn off by the time she got to school, but when she walked through the study room doors - and was full-force greeted, as always, with the attacking scent of musk, crushed dreams, and leftover remnants of monkey gas - instead of the dead-weight, bored, kind of hopeless feeling she usually got from being there, she instead felt surprisingly okay. Like it just wasn’t a big deal. 

Her bag was slightly heavier than usual this day so she wasted no time dumping it, loudly, on top of the table. She took her seat, checked the time on her phone - for once, she was a couple minutes early - and emptied the contents of her bag out in front of her. Three textbooks, purse, lip balm - though she made certain not to unleash the little corner of junk congregating at the bottom. 

It was a short while after that that everyone began to file into the room. 

“Did anyone get the lab report done?” Jeff asked, slouching into his seat.

“That’s due for today.” Shirley reminded him.

“Duh. That’s why I’m asking.”

“You’ve not done it already?” Annie gasped, affronted. “We’ve had all week!”

Britta rummaged through the small pile of papers leafed into her Biology textbook. It was a long shot, but maybe… There! 

“I have it.” She piped up, triumphantly waving the sheet in the air. God, it felt good to have beaten Jeff at something academic - even if it was just by default, because he hadn’t really tried to do the work at all.

She expected a biting comeback of some kind, but when she looked over at him, Jeff was just sort of staring at her, dumbstruck. 

“What?” 

“You’ve done the assignment.” 

“Uh, yeah. So…?” 

“You actually put the work in?” Troy speaking now, and he sounded as incredulous as ever. “Like, you actually gave up your free time and sat down for an hour and done the work for Biology, a class you hate?”

“Why is this a big deal?” Britta asked, feeling vaguely offended. “I can do homework, I can study.”

She was just about to place the sheet of paper back into her book when Annie lunged across the table, grabbing it out of her hands. “Hey!”

“You’ve - You’ve really done it!” Again, she sounded just as shocked as everyone else did and really, why was everybody so surprised? 

“It wasn’t that hard.” 

Everyone but Abed gasped. 

“It only took me, like, half an hour.” 

Another gasp.

“I think I see what is happening here.” Abed cut in, and everyone regarded him curiously - probably to see if he actually did know what was happening, or if his input was merely going to consist of a TV reference. 

“Well, I was rewatching _Face/Off_ last night, and this situation seems eerily similar. Clearly, Britta has gotten involved with the FBI and has had to undergo a highly experimental face transplant in order to take down a massive criminal, and-“

“That’s ridiculous.” Britta interrupted him before he could finish. 

“Oh, I don’t like that movie.” Shirley started. “Face transplants just aren’t right. If the Lord wanted you to have a different face, you’d have one.” 

“Not necessarily.” Abed argued. “See, the whole premise of the movie is that-“

“Ay-bed, if you don’t have any credible theories for why Britta has suddenly changed into a different person, don't say any at all.”

“Oh, I have credible theories.” 

“Really.”

“Yes. For example, I would say that this is definitive evidence of multiple timelines. Britta has been somehow switched with her alternate-timeline self, and-“

“Abed, enough with the timelines crap!” 

“No, hey, I think he’s onto something here.” Jeff said, pointing to Abed, who shot finger guns at him in response. 

“Come on.” Britta groaned, sliding down a little in her chair. “This really isn’t a big deal. I’m organised, that’s all. Why is that such a huge surprise to everybody? I can have good days, too, you know.” 

A chorus of scoffs ensued.


	2. (community) hearts will be glowing when loved ones are near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by @zacscottysnl - jeff gets annie a hanukah present

It’s been a long and tiring day and Annie feels as though she’s spent the whole 8 hour shift at work just wishing she was _home,_ but when she finally is done with the lab and standing in front of their door, it’s not open. 

Jeff’s car is in the lot and she texted him just before she left, so she knows he’s here. And most days if he gets home before she does, he just leaves the door unlocked for convenience’s sake, but when she tugs down on the handle and presses, hard, with her shoulder against the door, it doesn’t budge. 

 _Never mind, though,_ she thinks, and fishes her keys out from her bag. 

“I’m home!” She calls as soon as she crosses the threshold, but receives no answer. Huh. “Jeff?”

This time she does get a response - hurried, panicked shuffling coming from the direction of the living room. 

“Jeff?”

“Just a minute!” 

Needless to say this immediately rouses her suspicion, and she wastes no time in shrugging out of her coat, setting her bag down on the nearby console table, and making her way towards the sound. 

“Hey, I knocked at the door like six times, why-“ Annie takes int he scene before her, and abruptly cuts off. “Oh.”

“You weren’t supposed to see this.” Jeff is currently attempting to stuff the haphazard pieces of wrapping paper over the gift - that she can only assume was supposed to be a surprise. 

“Sorry?” 

“No, I mean, it’s okay. It’s not your Christmas present, I’m saving that for tomorrow. But Hanukkah starts today, and I was going to - well, I was gonna give you this later. Like, in a couple days time. I didn’t think - I thought I’d have more time before you got home.” 

“It’s Christmas Eve. The streets were surprisingly quiet.” 

“Figures.” 

He nods and she finds herself following suit. 

Jeff’s still sitting on the floor, and standing over him like this makes Annie feel strange, so she slumps down next to him, her back sliding uncomfortably against the couch as she goes. She sits as close as she can to him so that she’s practically in his lap, and rests her head against his shoulder when she feels his arm snake around her waist. 

“How much of it did you see?” Jeff asks after a moment, watching the little lump of wrapping paper warily, as though he expects the gift to suddenly jump out.. 

Annie considers lying, to make the situation a little better, maybe preserve the element of surprise he had so clearly been going for. 

But it wouldn’t make much of a difference, would it?”

“It’s very lovely.” She finally replies. “I mean, I didn’t see all of it, of course, but the small part - tiny, minuscule part, really - that I saw looks very nice.” 

“Great,” he laughs, sort of exhales, and she already knows he’s caught her out in her fib. “Well, since you’ve already seen it-“ He reaches to grab the watch from beneath the sheets of wrapping paper - and oh, goodness, he really went out and bought blue and white paper, specially for this occasion - and holds it for a second, turning it over and studying it, before handing it over to her.

She lets out a little gasp when the cool metal buckle touches her palms. “Jeff,” she exhales, quite unable to take her eyes off of it. “This is-“

“If you don’t like it, I can take it back.”

Annie shakes her head. _No._ “It’s beautiful.” The pale blue strap, clear face, sophistically understated and so delicate-looking that she’s almost afraid to touch it, lest it break. “Oh. I love it. Thank you.” She has to place it gently back onto the floor so as not to crush it when she squeezes closer to Jeff, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head against his chest. There’s tears prickling in her eyes and it’s just so _overwhelming._

He pulls her closer too and places a kiss to her hairline. “You’re welcome.” 


	3. (community) very important

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> sort-of-maybe prompted by @loosey-goosey
> 
> set around march 2016 perhaps??

Annie always warns him the night before that she’ll be setting the alarm early for the next morning, but it doesn’t really make much of a difference. Jeff wakes up at 7 am cranky and barely sentient anyways. 

“Mm.”

“We need to get up.” 

“s too early. Don’t have work until 9.”

“Yes, but we still need time to prepare - have a good breakfast and everything.” She rolls her eyes, not unkindly, but it’s the same conversation they have every morning and it gets old. 

“Plus, we were both late yesterday.”

“You weren’t.” He does sound a bit more awake now, so that’s promising. “And besides, ‘didn’t hear you complaining.” 

She feels the heat rushing to her cheeks and twists her mouth to one side to keep from smirking. Without looking, she already knows that he _is_ smirking and there’s no reason for both of them to be insufferably smug.

“Not my point. C’mon. If we get up now, we can put the coffee on, and it’ll be ready by the time we’re dressed…”

“You get up, then.”

“I can’t.”

“Wh’ not?”

Annie wriggles pointedly. “Your arm is pinning me into the mattress and you’re _heavy.”_

He disentangles himself immediately, but instead of sitting up like she’d hoped, he just rolls over, seemingly content just to sleep away the day. 

“Jeff.”

“Five minutes.” 

“ _Jeff.”_

“I’ll be ready soon, promise. Don’t wait for me, just get on with everything and I’ll be up soon.”

She lets out a sigh and slips out of bed, clicking the coffee machine on just moments later. 

* * *

Annie is halfway through her breakfast - oatmeal today; bland but quick - when Jeff finally surfaces. 

“I’m ready, I’m ready.”

“It’s quarter past 8.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.”

“Mm hm.” 

“Did you already-“

“On the counter.”

He nods and retrieves the mug of coffee, presumably ready to drink now - it’s been sitting out for so long. 

Jeff takes a long swig and makes his way back around the kitchen table, stopping to plant a kiss on the top of her head. “Thank you.”

It helps. “You’re welcome.” 

He sits down in the chair next to her, black coffee sloshing around in the cup from the movement. 

She eats, he drinks. She watches out the corner of her eye. 

When Annie places her dishes into the sink only 10 minutes later and heads back through the apartment to the bathroom to brush her teeth, she’s surprised to see Jeff following her. 

“No breakfast?” She asks, trying hard to sound casual and not prying. 

He meets her eyes in the mirror and smiles softly, easing her worry just a little bit. “I’m meeting Britta for breakfast after the first class, remember?” 

“Oh,” Annie shakes her head, suddenly realising. “Right, yeah, sorry. I forgot.” 

Jeff just shrugs in response. 

* * *

It’s when they’re leaving, knocking elbows on their way to grab each set of keys from the bowl by the door, that he finally admits, softly and apparently out of nowhere, “You don’t need to worry about me, you know.”

It takes her slightly off guard - because yes, they’ve been dating for nearly a year now, but it’s still a topic they’ve never discussed; how serious things really are. Of course she worries about him, not least because of the way their relationship has progressed since she came back from DC. 

“I know.” She smiles faintly at him as he shuts and locks the door behind them. “I do, though.” 

“I know.” He repeats, reaching for her hands. “And it’s one of the things I love most about you. I’m just saying, well-“

“I get it,” she interrupts, feeling a little burst of happiness at his wording ( _things,_ plural!). “But I love you, too; of course I worry. You’re very important to me.”

He kisses her then, all domesticity and hope.


	4. (community) baked bads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy and Abed try to make holiday cookies, and it doesn't go very well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Troy Barnes, Abed Nadir  
> relationship: (can be read as) Troy/Abed  
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by @celerylapel

“I warned you about the Inspector Spacetime cinematic soundtrack.” Abed remarks, not looking up from his task of measuring the half cup of butter needed for the recipe. 

“What are you talking a-about? I’m f-fine.” Troy attempts to snark back, but it sounds more like a whimper, and even if it didn’t, the effect is sort of ruined by the half hearted swipe at his already tear-stained cheeks. 

“No you’re not, you’re crying.” Abed straightens up and pats his friend on the back a couple times, a little too firmly to really be comforting, but softly enough that Troy knows the intent is there. 

“Thanks, buddy. But I j-just can’t help it! You know I always cry at that episode. There’s just something about the Inspector’s face when Geneva leaves…” This cascades him into a new wave of tears, but he valiantly goes back to following the recipe anyway, reaching for the sugar to pour it into the cup. 

“How long does the recipe take, again?”

“According to the website,” Abed checks quickly, then continues. “10 minutes.”

“…And how long has it been already?”

“A half hour.” 

“Right.” Troy finishes measuring the sugar and moves onto the milk. “Have you done the vanilla extract?”

“Yep,” he replies, moving around him to grab a bowl from under the oven. “We just have to mix it all together and bake it for 25 minutes.”

“25 minutes?” Troy whines a little. “But I’m hungry now!”

“I know.” Abed tips the contents of the various cups of ingredients he has already prepared into the bowl, and watches Troy as he finishes up. Then an idea strikes him: “But if we double the temperature then we can bake it in just 12.5 minutes instead.” 

“And if we triple the temperature…” Troy starts.

“…Then we could do it in 9 minutes!” 

“Dude, get outta my brain.”

* * *

“So, I’m thinking we should taste test them before we decorate them.” 

“Good idea.” Abed replies. “And you should probably get a bandage for your hand. Or at least call Annie.”

Troy regards his (already slightly blistering) hand, considering. “The burn wasn’t too bad. It doesn’t hurt that much now, see? - Ow. I mean, unless I do _that.”_

Abed watches him, unblinking, waiting for Troy to come up with the correct response on his own. 

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’ll call Annie as soon as we’re done.”

“Great.” 

“But in the meantime, can we just hurry up and test these cookies? I’m starving now.” Not exactly thinking,  he once again reaches for the tin. Thankfully, Abed smacks his hand away at the last minute.

“Oven gloves, remember?” 

“Right, yeah.” 

Abed uses the gloves to lift a couple of the cookies onto a plate, setting it before them. 

“We’ll go at the same time, right?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Troy picks it up delicately, but the food itself doesn’t seem to be as hot as the tin. “Ready?” 

Abed follows suit, mimicking Troy’s stance, cookie held halfway to his mouth. “Ready.”

“On three.” 

“One…”

“…Two…”

“…Three!” 

They eat them at once. 

“Hm,” Troy hums, hoping it comes across as _hey, this cookie tastes great_ rather than the truth, _hey, this cookie tastes terrible._ He continues to chew, slightly over-exaggeratedly, but the taste doesn’t get any better. He’s not sure exactly what went wrong - they followed the recipe completely, dammit! They did everything Annie always does, and it always works out fine for her! - but clearly something did, because honestly, calling whatever _this_ is a cookie is an insult to cookies everywhere. Seriously. 

“It’s very - um,” 

“This is terrible.” Abed says, plain and simple. “I think we must have done something wrong.”

“ _Exactly,_ dude! It’s - oh, it’s not a baked _good,_ it’s more like a baked _bad.”_

Abed shoots finger guns at him. “Nice one.” 

“Thanks, I’m pretty proud of it.” 

“So, what should we do about all this, then? They’re pretty much inedible.” 

Troy surveys the situation - they’ve made a whole batch of cookies, and remaking them would take a really long time and he’s _tired._ “Maybe if we just put a lot of icing on them, no one will notice…?”

“I was thinking the same thing."


	5. (nmtd/lolilo) o christmas tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea and Ben have a bet that Ben can't get their Christmas tree all the way up to their apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Nothing Much To Do/Lovely Little Losers  
> characters: Benedick Hobbes, Beatrice Duke  
> relationship: Beadick (lol)  
> rating: G
> 
> some of you nmtd-verse ppl might remember me from my other ao3 account, @sleeptalker (formerly @mynameisnotmya). posting on this one for convenience/the fic-mas series. last time i wrote nmtd fic was 2014 i think?? but i'm feeling nostalgic, so prompt me if you want to write more!!!

After a minor disagreement regarding whether or not Ben was actually strong enough to drag in the  tree they picked out (only a 6-footer, but wide enough that they could barely fit it through the doorway) it ends up being him attempting to drag it all the way from the internal car park to their fourth-floor flat. Being the kind and conscientious girlfriend that she is, Bea walks in front, directing him the whole way, ‘cause why on earth would she pass up an opportunity to watch him bear the brunt of his own self-assurance like that?

“You sure you don’t need any help there?” She asks once they reach their front door. Instead of opening it for him - which, if she were feeling a little less gloat-y, she might have - she leans against the adjacent wall, watching as Ben awkwardly attempts to shove the tree upright against his back as he fishes in his pocket for the keys. 

“Nope, all good.” He replies faux-breezily, even as the tree slides down a little, no doubt painfully. “I’ll just be a couple minutes.”

“Sure, take all the time you need.” 

Ben nods and shoots her the most sarcastic grin she’s ever seen on him. (No match to her, of course, but still - it’s _Ben.)_

True to his word, it (surprisingly) only does take him a couple of minutes or so to wrench the door open. However, shoving the tree through is another task entirely. 

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Bea explains, brushing past. “I think I feel like tea.” 

“Make me some?”

“You’ll be busy.” 

She not-really tries to suppress a smirk as she wanders away, practically able to _feel_ Ben glaring daggers at her back the whole time. 

“Nah, you’re probably right.” Ben snarks back, pointedly repositioning the tree to lean against the open doorway, wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his coat. “Very busy.” 

“Mm, very.” 

“I’ll be busy dragging this _entire tree indoors,_ all by myself…”

“Have fun with that.”

“Oh, I will.” He holds the tree up with one hand, quickly manoeuvring  himself into the flat before it falls. Once he’s made the tricky movement, he grabs the sturdiest branches, a couple in each hand, and tries to pull it through. 

Bea, with her back to the action, has to pause in her tea-making process when she hears a yelp, a few moments later. 

“Ben, for God’s sake, you obviously can’t do it, just admit I was right and move-“ she stops. Practically does a double take. “…on.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you bleeding?” She sets the mug down and rushes over. “Holy shit, Ben, what did you do?” 

“Only a bit.” He props the tree against the now-closed door and holds his hand up higher to the light to check. “This is fine.”

“What even happened?” 

“The tree does not appreciate being moved.” 

“No shit!” She take this hand in hers, holding in gingerly, not wanting to make anything worse. “Just wait here a sec, I’ll get a band-aid.”

“Thanks.” He stays rooted to the spot, obediently, watching as Bea opens various cupboards, searching for the first-aid kit Ursula bought them when they first moved in. “And hey, can I have that cup of tea now?” 

“Ha! No. You didn’t win the bet.” 


	6. (community) introduction to holiday bromance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff and Abed go Christmas shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Abed Nadir  
> relationship: n/a  
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by @zacscottysnl - thanks for giving me an excuse to trawl through endless 'classic bromance' articles, this was fun!!

“So, are we doing a Chandler-and-Joey sort of deal, or Captain Kirk-and-Spock?” 

“What, Abed?”

“‘Cause if we’re doing the latter, I’d like to request to be Captain Kirk. After a lifetime of being Spock in most people’s eyes, it gets a little old. But if we’re doing the former, I guess it could go either way.” He cocks his head to one side, considering briefly. “Actually, wait, I guess you’re more Chandler. I’d like to say Joey, because, you know, you’re a ladies man and all that, but I actually haven’t seen you with a girl recently, and you do seem to enjoy slipping into the ‘straight man’ role in our friendship more often than not, so…”

“Again, I’ll ask. What are you talking about?” 

“For today. Britta sent me a Buzzfeed article about the _20 Most Epic TV Bromances of All Time,_ so I prepared this morning by studying all the classics.” He punctuates this with a singular finger gun. “It’s a pretty long list, but I narrowed it down. We’re either Chandler and Joey, or Kirk and Spock. I thought a little about JD and Tuck, but I think that’s more a me-and-Troy thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Jeff briefly entertains the thought of simply dumping the couple bags he’s already holding, turning abruptly, and leaving the mall without saying anything. It’s certainly tempting. 

“Oh, and I also thought about Chad and Ryan, you know, from High School Musical? But again, I’d say that’s more me and Troy, this time circa season one.” 

“High School Musical? Did Annie make you watch that?” Jeff asks, drily as they pass what seems to be the third Starbucks in a row.

“No.” Abed furrows his brows quizzically. “Why?”

“Never mind.” 

They have passed another few stores before Abed pipes up again. “How many more gifts do we need to get?” 

“Well, I’ve already got Troy and Pierce. So, literally everyone else.” 

Troy and Pierce were relatively easy to buy for. For the former, he had bought a DVD of _Planet of the Apes -_ Troy had seen it earlier in the year and wouldn’t shut up about it for over a week. For the latter, a couple pairs of bed socks. 

“The girls?” Abed asks. 

“Yep.” 

“Annie needs new binder dividers.” He offers immediately. “The good quality ones, not the stuff you get from Target. 17 days ago Shirley expressed interest in getting the _Bridesmaids_ movie on DVD; I don’t think she has it yet because she and Annie haven’t quoted any lines in a while. I’m pretty sure Britta wants the new Red Hot Chilli Peppers CD. She says it’s because listening to CDs is a dying pastime, but I’m pretty sure it’s just because she doesn’t own an iPod.” He shrugs. 

“Abed,” Jeff stops in his tracks, turns, and places both hands heavily on Abed’s shoulders. “You’re a genius.” 

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Hey, season one reference.” 

Abed shoots finger guns at him.


	7. (nmtd/lolilo) mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben wakes Bea up in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Nothing Much To Do/Lovely Little Losers  
> characters: Benedick Hobbes, Beatrice Duke  
> relationship: Beadick  
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by anonymous on tumblr! :)

Bea wakes up in bed to the sound of her boyfriend’s scream. 

And, like - okay, she doesn’t want to sound callous, but it’s not exactly surprising to hear. And besides, she knows he’s not really hurt - or he shouldn’t be, anyway - but she _does_ have a pretty good idea of what’s happened, so she slips out of bed. (Out of the cocoon of luxurious warmth she had built up during the night, straight into the freezing, unrelenting non-bed air. Damnit, Ben!) 

It’s hard to see in the living room; illuminated only dimly by a novelty Himalayan salt lamp that Meg had (only half-ironically) bought them during her past holiday. So it takes a moment or so for her eyes to adjust to the light, but once they do, it’s not hard to spot Ben.

He’s crouching in the corner, his back to her, holding his hand and hunched over in a way that shows he knows full well that she has entered and that he has been caught red handed. 

Nevertheless, Bea feels the need to tell him so anyway. “Caught!” 

Ben hurriedly shuffles something away under a pile of presents before finally turning around, giving her a guilty, puppy-who’s-just-been-seen-eating-non-dog-food sort of look. “Sorry?” 

“Yeah, I bet you are.” 

“It’s not what it looks like.” 

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you tried to open your presents a day early _like you always do_ and got all caught up in my traps.”

“No, it’s - Wait. You booby-trapped our Christmas presents?”

“Yes, I booby-trapped the Christmas presents; you do this every fucking year!” 

“First, not true. Second, that literally makes no sense.” 

“Yes it does! It’s perfectly reasonable! You open your presents the night before and fail to act surprised on Christmas morning. Every. Year.” She takes this opportunity, the closing of her argument, to sit heavily down on the couch. It seems like she won’t be getting back to bed any time soon.

Ben looks put out for a moment before composing himself. “Well, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” 

“Thank you. Wait, why? You never accept my apologies this early.” 

“It’s 3am.”

“Ah.”

They stay in comfortable silence for a moment before Bea speaks up again. “Why were you up at 3 in the morning, anyway? If it really wasn’t to open all your presents.” The inflection in her tone suggests she doesn’t quite believe the second part, but she is so sleep deprived that she is willing to concede. 

“It really wasn’t.” Ben says, trying to convince her. “I was. I was… Decorating.” 

“Decorating.” She repeats, skeptically. 

“Yes.”

“On Christmas Eve?”

“Yes.” 

“Nearly a full month after we already put up all our decorations?”

“Yes.”

She lets out a long sigh. “Fine. Can we go back to bed now? I’m exhausted.” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” 

Bea gets up, swaying a little as she does so - because it’s 3 in the fucking morning and she’s _tired -_ but before she leaves, Ben tries again. 

“I was trying to hang up mistletoe.” 

She turns, slowly, to face him. “Mistletoe?” 

Ben shrugs. “Well, yeah. We don’t have any, right, and it’s kind of a Christmas staple… I didn’t, you know.” He makes a face. “I wasn’t putting it up to, like, trick you or whatever. Nothing like that, I just, thought it’d be nice, you know? To wake up to on Christmas morning. And I could play it off, like, _how did that get there?”_ He must realise that he is rambling, because he cuts himself off without Bea so much as saying a word.

“You wanted to kiss me under the mistletoe?”

He looks down, fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Well, _yeah.”_ Then looks up, only briefly, just a  glance, really. “I mean, did you-?”

“Well, yeah.” 

He seems to be catching onto her line of thinking, because he reaches almost surreptitiously behind him, retrieving a small green sprig from under a - still wrapped, she notices - gift. “And you _do-“_

“Yes, dummy.” She can feel herself smiling and doesn’t even feel embarrassed about it - ‘cause Ben is completely matching her smile with one of his own. 

He gets up completely and sort of gravitates towards her, but before she can lean in he inches away, holding the mistletoe between them. “Wait, how’re we gonna do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it has to be _under_ the mistletoe, right? Or else it doesn’t count. So, should I get tape and put it on the ceiling, or should I just hold it up like this-“ 

He’s cut off by her mouth on his. 


	8. (community) its gonna be a cold cold christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie is overseas during Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> this takes a bit of explaining i suppose - essentially annie is in australia over the holidays for a work related thing, leading to a large time difference between she and colorado. title + lyrics are from "It's Gonna Be A Cold, Cold Christmas" by Dana (aka, the quintessential Sad Christmas OTP™ anthem)
> 
> prompted by @loosey-goosey!

_“I didn't bother with the mistletoe_

_You won't be here to kiss me_

_The only consolation that I've got_

_I know for sure you'll miss me_

_It won't be long until you're home again_

_And we can share these magic moments, but till then_

_It's gonna be a cold, cold Christmas without you…”_

* * *

Of course, she knew it’d be difficult. Being overseas for such a long time, and over the holidays, too. There was a small window of time a week back when it seemed like she might finish up a couple of days early and could catch an early flight back home, and Jeff at the time had totally hyped it up for her, providing a calming virtual presence and the reassurance that yes, of course she would be home by Christmas day. 

And then the final project evaluation had been delayed by a day - _but it was okay, because surely she would be able to fly home early on Christmas morning_ \- and then by another - _but perhaps she could fly back on the day after? -_ and then by another, by which point all hope was lost - _but hey, at least you’ll be home for New Years! …Right?_

Currently it was 10pm, and she had just gotten back from dinner with her coworkers. Over the past two weeks she had definitely bonded with them - more than she usually would ons short-term projects such as this, but she guessed there was just something about being flown halfway across the world with a group of strangers over the holidays that made forging friendships easier. There was a sense, whenever she met up with them, that they were in a way each other’s safety blankets; huddling together, strange as it seemed, for warmth in a cold and familiar land. 

Well, not _so_ unfamiliar. But the time difference - 18 entire hours! - had taken a while to get used to, and the heat - it was summer here - and the culture. The culture certainly was different to back home…

…For example, the previous day - Christmas Day - she had spent most of her evening at the bar with her coworkers. And then at the beach. They were at the beach for a pretty long time. 

Jeff had video-called her at that time, but she hadn’t previously calculated how long she was going to be there for, and so the call ended up taking place in a more secluded part of the beach. She knew for definite only a few things that had happened, and even then, only in snapshots - her sitting against a pile of rocks (or perhaps the base of a cliff?); Jeff tired and bleary eyed and trying ever so valiantly to keep up with her rambling (it couldn’t have been any later than 6 am back home); the wine she had already consumed making her loose-lipped and overly emotional; lamenting that, since it was Christmas Day, all she really wanted for Christmas was to see him - which inevitably led to an embarrassing serenade of _“All I Want For Christmas Is You.”_

(In his text, which Annie received the morning after, Jeff had - graciously - glossed over that part.)

She was in the middle of getting ready for bed, wanting to get a decent night’s rest before Jeff’s Christmas Day call (3pm his time, 9am hers) when suddenly her laptop chirped from the other side of the hotel room. 

Annie paused, setting down her hairbrush and hesitating only for a millisecond before rushing across the room. It couldn’t be - but oh, she really hoped it was-!

> _Jeff Winger would like to FaceTime_

She clicked _accept_ without preparing first, and in the split second before the connection finalised tried to fix her hair, but, she was afraid, to no avail.

“Hey,” the connection was swimming at best, but it was definitely _Jeff._

“You’re not supposed to call until tomorrow!” 

“What, aren’t you happy to see me?” He tried for an affected pout but of course it turned into a smirk instead. _God._ She missed him so much. 

“No, dummy, _obviously_ I am - just! You caught me _right before_ I was going to go to bed.” 

“C’mon, it’s not the first time I’ve seen you like this.” 

She bobbed her head - yeah, that was true, but still! There was more pressure when they were so far apart - when they were talking over crappy quality video instead of face-to-face - because they didn’t just get to see each other whenever they liked. It was a more special time, more precious, and the wish to dress up a little bit, make herself look the best she could, was strong. 

Instead of saying all of this, she replied, “Still.” 

Jeff sat in silence for a minute, staring at her, and it was okay because she was staring, too. She absolutely _drank_ _in_ the sight of him, and it didn’t even matter that she probably embarrassed herself in front of him the previous night with her serenade and that she was still quite a bit humiliated by that, because he was _there, with her -_ in the most possible sense of the word, all things considered. 

She realised after a moment that Jeff’s background was entirely dark and grainy - she couldn't make out a bit of it. She asked him why, and he shot her a self-conscious smile. 

Then her suspicions grew. “What time is it there?”

“I don’t know.” 

Annie narrowed her eyes at him. Well, if he wasn’t going to tell her - it was 10 pm where she was, meaning it had to be early back home… Extremely early. 

“Jeff. What time is it?” 

He made a big show of checking his phone, conveniently placed all the way in the other room, proclaiming that he couldn’t access the time on his laptop when a program was in use, which of course was just him buying himself time, hoping she’d forget to question him about it by the time he came back. She didn’t. 

“Time?” She asked primly, when the vague outline of his body stepped back into frame. 

He sat down again before answering, and was in focus enough that she could see his apologetic shrug. “It’s just after 4 am.” 

“Jeff! I can’t believe-“ Annie was all ready to set off into a disapproving rant, all about how he hadn’t gotten a whole lot of sleep the night before, and definitely shouldn’t be waking up so early just on her behalf; but he cut her off. 

“If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t planning on this being the longer call. I’m saving that for tonight, so I’ll be able to get back to sleep after this; don’t worry. I just wanted to say merry Christmas.” 

Confusion passed briefly, though visibly, across her face before she realised. “Oh, right. It’s - It’s only just Christmas back home.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “And I wanted to call you once it reached midnight, but I thought maybe you’d be busy…” 

She didn’t reply, but he was right. 

“And I knew it’d have to be around 10 pm there, right, so I thought I’d set an alarm to call now.” 

“Jeff…” 

“I know.” 

Annie just sighed. 

“Look - I’ll go now, get some sleep, so I’m still awake by the time I call tonight. I just wanted to tell you, you know. Happy Christmas. And I wish you were with me.” 

“Me too.” She rubbed at her eyes. “You know I miss you too.”

“I know. And, I love you.”

“I love you-“

“And sweet dreams.”

“You too.” 

He nodded, once, and perhaps they extended their goodbyes a little longer than they should have, strictly speaking, but when she finally did half up the call and crawl into bed, Annie’s dreams were tinged with hope for the future, with excitement for going home in a couple of days, with the kind of contentment only a long talk with her partner could provide. 


	9. (community) ceilidh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of a teachers!AU WIP. Annie and Jeff are asked to demonstrate a dance for their pupils.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> this takes some explaining i admit. this is one scene from a WIP i've been planning and avoiding writing since laST NOVEMBER. essentially it's an au where annie becomes a temporary teacher at a school in scotland where jeff works. literally the only reason I've set it in this country is bc "forced close-quarters dancing" is a trope I've not read nearly enough of. (and bc i want to do a teachers au and am too lazy to research how high schools in other countries work, shhhhh) if you like this, maybe i'll write the rest one day ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The students have separated into two - boys on one side, girls on the other, which Annie thinks is slightly old-fashioned - and are sitting slumped over on the benches, bored, while the usual Gym teachers struggle to hook up the stereo at the back of the hall. 

She spots Jeff standing at the opposite side, too, leaning against the brick wall like he thinks he’s too cool for the whole experience. Waits patiently for him to meet her eyes, and then smirks. 

As she expected, he comes running straight after, clearly feeling a need to defend himself - or perhaps his masculinity? 

“I didn’t sign up for this.” He says immediately, in response to a question she hasn’t even asked but he’s obviously anticipating. “My class apparently has a voluntary lesson, and I got roped in. Swear.”

“Mm, really?” She teases, but then she catches the way he looks around the room almost self-consciously, shuffling his feet a little, and realises that it must be a big step for him to do this. He’s going in blind, she remembers - blinder than she is, after the couple month’s of work experience she had at the primary school - and it’s brave of him to agree to this when he really has no idea of what exactly he has agreed _to._

So she tries for a different conversation tactic. “I totally get it; I only volunteered so it would get me out of the librarian’s fourth-period _birthday bash._ ” She adds air quotes to the last part to exaggerate her distaste even more. 

Jeff nods - he believed her! Yes! 

Not that it was _completely_ a lie… But in all honestly, she signed up to volunteer for the Christmas Dance a  month ago now, and subsequently agreed to help with the rehearsals in order to get a feel for the type of dancing that _should_ be going on at the Dance, so she could be more - well… Chaperone-y? Competent, maybe. 

“It’s only two periods, right?” 

Annie nods. 

“It can’t be that bad.” He shakes his head, like he’s reassuring himself. “Yeah. Boring, maybe.” 

“Probably.” 

He opens his mouth to say something else, but right then the male Gym teacher barks orders for all the students to be quiet, as they’re about to detail the lesson for today, and Jeff shoots her an apologetic look - complete with a _hey, what can you do?_ shrug - and wanders discreetly back to the side of the room he’s supposed to be on. 

The teacher demands the students to line up in order of height - for practicality purposes, Annie assumes - and they do as he asks, albeit begrudgingly. They seem to know what to do next without being told, pairing off and walking in an orderly queue around the room, until the last couple has been positioned and the room is lined with the pairs.

The gym teachers announce the name of the song - Canadian Barn Dance - and make their way into the centre of the room so that they are able to be seen by everyone. 

“This one is relatively easy.” The man says, calling over the female teacher. “You start like so-“ They demonstrate: man standing on the left, the woman to the right. They clasp their hands between them. 

From the bench, Annie cranes her neck, trying to get a better view - but that only brings about her downfall. 

“Ms. Edison, why don’t you help us demonstrate!” The female Gym teacher calls - Josephine, she thinks her name is. “Partner up with - oh, with, um.” She flounders for a moment as though she’s forgotten his name. “With the modern studies teacher.” 

Annie shoots a panicked look to Jeff, who returns it in kind. 

“Sorry,” she pipes up, thinking wildly. “But J-Mr. Winger and I don’t really know any of the dances, we’re new to this. I don’t think we’d be very good demonstr-“

“Well, that’s even better!” Male teacher crows. “You’ll pick it up as you go along, I’m sure.” 

It seems as though there’s nothing she can do to get them out of this. She sneaks a glance at Jeff, hoping that perhaps he has a plan - some fancy, apologetic-sounding words to excuse them from the activity - but he’s just as stumped. 

They make eye contact, he tilts his head in the direction of the centre of the room, and she nods. 

“Um, sure thing.” 

She weaves past the two students separating her from the gap in the centre, and goes to take her place next to the teachers - near enough that she’ll be able to see exactly what is going on, but far enough away that she can still use the excuse of demonstration. 

When Jeff meets her there she shoves her hand in his quickly. His palm is slightly sweaty and she’s sort of glad, because hers is, too. 

“We’ll go through this dance twice.” Josephine explains to her pupils. “Once slowly, and then again at a normal speed. Please pay attention.” Her tone is long-suffering. 

There are a few murmurs of agreement, and then all at once it begins - Josephine and her partner march forward a few steps, with a  little jump at the end. 

Annie and Jeff completely missed the cue - if there even was one. So she tugs on his hand to spur him into the action with her. March forward a few steps, then lift at the end. 

Being a step behind has it’s advantages; for one, she is able to watch the Gym teachers perform the steps before she and Jeff have to attempt it themselves. This is the slow version, but it already seems quite fast, and she is pretty sure she trods on Jeff’s foot at least twice during the minute-long demonstration. 

“It’s a lot to take in when you first start it,” Josephine explains, facing the pupils but clearly speaking to Jeff and Annie, “and it’s alright to mess it up a few times in the very beginning. You’ll get the hang of it in no time.” 

They perform it once more, faster this time and with the music in the background. This makes it harder to focus on the steps, and Annie fumbles a couple of times - though no more than Jeff, who stays tentative and reserved during the dance. 

As quickly as it begins the demonstration is over, and the teachers are free to stand by the benches once more; the Gym teachers over by the stereo, Annie with her clipboard, having been given the task of noting down which couples are trying the hardest. Apparently there’s an incentive of some kind for the pairing that performs most enthusiastically - clearly, this is not an aspect of Gym that most people enjoy. 

Jeff sits down heavily beside her. He’s supposed to be on the opposite side of the room, to watch the students on that side, but instead he’s foregoing the rules to sit _here,_ with _her,_ and she can’t really deny that it feels like it means something. It means something to her, at least. 

Trying not to give anything of her thought process away, she stays focused on her clipboard, noting down the names _Thomas B. and Lucy W._ under the list of enthusiastic dancers. 

“Well, that was embarrassing.” 

Without looking up, she replies, “I guess.” 

There’s a moment’s silence. Or, as silent as it can be, given the loud jig blaring through the speakers. 

“You know, you weren’t supposed to lead.” 

She can’t help it; she drops her pen and huffs. “Well, you didn’t know the dance! How were you supposed to lead?” 

It’s only when she looks up to meet his eyes that she notices he’s smirking a little - oh, he was just making fun. 

“I’m just saying.” 

She rolls her eyes in response. 

Another pause, this time spent just listening to the music. Seriously, how long is this song? It feels as though it’s been going on for over 5 minutes, now. 

Suddenly, a thought strikes her. “Hey, you didn’t volunteer to chaperone the Dance, did you?” 

“Well, yeah.” He says it like _duh._

“Why?” 

“Free alcohol, Annie. _And_ snacks.” At her disapproving stare, he adds, “and the glory and fulfilment of allowing young students to have a fun, safe time at the party and everything…” 

She nods. 

“But, you know, mostly the free drinks.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” She reprimands. “And _dumb._ You clearly didn’t enjoy performing the demonstration; how’re you going to fare in the actual Dance?”

“Wait, teachers are expected to dance?” 

Annie nods, like it’s obvious. “Didn’t you listen when they were asking for volunteers?” 

“Come on, you know me.” 

“I’ll take that as a _no,_ then.” 

He nods, and his shit-eating grin is infuriating. 

“Well, if you _had_ been paying attention, you’d know that teachers are expected to participate also. It sets a good example for the students. And, you know.” She shrugs. “If we’re closer to them, we’ll be able to tell how drunk they are. That’s mostly our job for the night, come to think of it. If there’s any kids we suspect to have been drinking, we’re to report them to the Year Head straight away.” 

“But it’s out of school hours!” Jeff complains. “They’re not _our_ responsibility.” 

She glares at him. “We’re going to dance, and we’re going to follow the rules, and we’re going to ensure the safety and sobriety of all students.”

“Fine, fine.” He groans. “Ugh. Why did I sign up for this, again? You know, before I came to this class I thought I had neutral feelings about _traditional dancing-“_ his air-quotes around the words are slightly over exaggerated, “-but this sucks.” 

“Do you really not enjoy it?” Annie asks, trying not to sound as curious as she feels. “I actually think it’s pretty fun.” 

“No, I definitely enjoyed it.” 

It’s the way he enunciates the word, draws it out, that forces her to meet his eyes. He’s staring down at her with an expression she can’t really read - challenge, perhaps - and immediately she knows they are referencing the same thing. The closeness of their bodies; the way his hand sat firmly against the curve of her waist even as they messed up all the moves. His hand in hers. The surprising intimacy of it, even though they were surrounded - literally - by just under a hundred pupils, as well as some coworkers. 

She shivers a little and he immediately looks away. The moment is gone, but there’s still a promise of it hanging in the air. _Just._

God, she can’t wait for the Christmas Dance. 


	10. (nmtd/lolilo) november celebrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben wants to celebrate Christmas early, but Bea disagrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Nothing Much To Do/Lovely Little Losers  
> characters: Benedick Hobbes, Beatrice Duke  
> relationship: Ben/Bea  
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by @accioinvisibilitycloak on tumblr

“We’re not even halfway through November yet.” 

“It’s past Halloween, though!” Ben reasons. “And look, the shops are already selling stuff!” Rather pointedly, he gestures to the boxes of lights and baubles. 

“We’re _not_ decorating the flat for Christmas right now.” Bea checks the date on her phone. “It’s November 17th.” 

“That’s _basically_ December, though.” 

“Not really.” 

“Sort of.” 

“ _No.”_ She wonders why she’s even arguing with him. He’s as stubborn as she is. “Look, if you’re really desperate and can’t wait, then we can start decorating on December 1st.” 

“But that’s so far away.” Ben laments, surreptitiously inching towards the display of baubles and other Christmas-y decorations. “Besides, all the good stuff will probably be gone by then…” 

“That’s idiotic.” 

“We don’t have to actually _decorate.”_ He bargains, already reaching for the little clear-plastic box of baubles. “We can just buy them now, and keep them until later. You know, just to avoid the hassle of getting them later…” 

Bea sighs, and tries for a moment to find some sort of compromise. Ben obviously isn’t going to let this go. “Look, what if we buy some lights just now-“ his face lights up. “But _not_ baubles, because that’s ridiculous. But we can get lights. They’re not overly seasonal, right?” 

“I guess that’s fair.” Ben places the box back, and retrieves a cord of lights from the same section. “We’re totally hanging these up today, though.” 

“Ugh. Okay.”

* * *

Bea was hoping Ben would just forget about putting the lights up today, but unfortunately, he pounces on her straight after dinner. 

She agrees to hang them up with him only because she doesn’t have enough patience to argue her point. Besides, the twinkling multi-coloured lights do actually look quite pretty, draped around the bookcase like that. 

 _“It’s beginning to look a lot like-“_ Ben starts.

“Don’t.” But she’s smiling even as she says so, and she knows Ben notices because he just grins back. 

* * *

When she returns from the bedroom, having changed into light pyjamas, she is attacked by the loud wailing: _“Alllll I want for Chriiistmaaaaaas…”_

“No Mariah Carey!” That is where she definitely draws the line. 

Ben looks put out for a moment, moving to pause the music. “Can we compromise with Michael Buble instead?” 

“Fine.” 

They go about their activities for the rest of the evening with the sounds of Buble in the background - and Bea has to admit, it does make her feel a bit more Christmas-y. 

(But she’ll never tell Ben that.)


	11. (community) intro to master plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parks and Rec AU. When the Greendale city government faces difficulties, financial advisors arrive at the Greendale Parks Department and Jeff tries to block any attempts of firing his colleagues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Frankie Dart, Annie Edison, Abed Nadir, Troy Barnes, Shirley Bennett, Pierce Hawthorne, Britta Perry, Jeff Winger  
> relationship: n/a  
> rating: G
> 
> a parks and rec au featuring: Jeff Winger, head of the parks department; Britta Perry, deputy head; Troy Barnes, personal assistant/pit faller; Shirley Bennett, motivator extraordinaire, Pierce Hawthorne, intern; Frankie Dart, Annie Edison, and Abed Nadir, financial advisors.

“Craig just called,” Britta notified the office at large. “They’re on their way.” 

“God, they’re gonna fire people, aren’t they? I’m only two years from my pension.” Pierce complained, grumpily sitting down upon (and ultimately falling against) Shirley’s desk. The aforementioned glared before shooing him away. 

“Pierce, you’re an intern.” Jeff reminded him. “You don’t get a pension.” 

“What?” Pierce replied, acting as though this was news to him despite the fact that they had had this conversation approximately 10 times already. “Then what am I working here for?” 

“Keeping your mind young?” Britta suggested, leaning against the door frame to Jeff’s office. “Distracting yourself from the inevitable retirement-based road to senilism?”

Pierce stuck his tongue out at her. “Yeah, well, at least I’m not working as an underpaid concubine-slash-secretary-“ 

“I’m _deputy head_ of this department! How dare-“

“Yeah!” Troy called unnecessarily from the back of the room, where he had hidden a few minutes ago, scared of the looming financial advisors. “Don’t talk to Britta like that-!” 

The Shirley joined in, yelling for Troy to calm down and wondering aloud why exactly _he_ would be so offended by Pierce’s insults to Britta, and soon the shouting was indecipherable, loud, meaningless, and goddamn _annoying,_ and Jeff had long since had it already. He turned round to face them, shooting them the most menacing look he could muster. “Enough!” 

His coworkers stopped immediately. Perks of being the boss. They were staring at him with wide eyes… Or, not _him._ Behind. 

Catching on too late, he spun around. 

“I assume this is the parks department?” 

There were 3 of them, which came as a surprise. Craig had only warned them about 2. The taller woman - dark hair, unreadable expression - seemed to be running the thing, but it had been the shorter one who spoke. The third person - who didn’t seem to really care about what was happening at all - shuffled in behind them. 

“Uh, yes.” Britta responded. “Yes! We’re the Greendale Parks Department, at your - um. Your service.” 

The taller one nodded. “Pleased to meet you all. My name is Frankie Dart. As I’m sure you already know, myself, as well as my colleagues here, Annie Edison and Abed Nadir, have been hired to advise your department about accounts and excessive spending.” 

Composing himself, Jeff tried to steer the conversation back to a more informal area. “Ms. Dart, it’s a pleasure. Jeff Winger,” he held out his hand for each of them to shake. They weren’t as charmed as he would have hoped them to be. 

Frankie looked to Britta expectantly, clearly assuming her to carry on the rapport. 

“Do you want someone to show you around?” She asked, instead. 

“What Britta is meaning to ask,” Shirley cut in hastily, “is, would any of you like a tour?” 

“I don’t think that would really be necessary-“ The shorter woman - Annie - began, but was cut off by Abed. 

“That’d be great. It’d be cool to find out what we’re working with here, you know?” 

Jeff didn’t know, but he enlisted Troy to show him around. Mostly because he hadn’t said anything dumb yet and Jeff needed to make sure he wasn’t about to in the near future. 

“If it’s alright with you,” Frankie said, adjusting the buttons on her blazer. “I think we should get started.” 

“Sure, great.” Jeff answered, though really he hadn’t been expecting things to move so quickly. “The conference room is just over there. We’ll give you a couple minutes to set up.” 

The advisors nodded and moved towards the room, passing Pierce in the process. Annie gave him a polite smile and little wave. Pierce glared at them both. 

Once the conference room door was safely shut, the whispered chaos began. 

“No one told us they’d be starting the process _today!_ We’re completely unprepared!” Britta lamented, picking up random files and flysheets on the nearby desks and reading them, as though they could somehow provide all the answers. 

“This definitely doesn’t set a good example for the department,” Shirley worried, twisting the pendant of her necklace nervously. “They probably already think we’re incompetent. And if they’re really going to fire people, like the rumours said, you can best believe I’ll be the first to go.”

“Hey!” Pierce cried, full of needless indignation. “Why wouldn’t I be the first to be fired?” 

Shirley made as if to argue back, but Jeff put a stop to it. Arguing was definitely the worst thing they could possibly do right now. “Look, they’re not gonna fire people. I’m the head of this department, they can’t touch anyone without checking with me, first.” _That_ he wasn’t sure about, but it sounded good, and thankfully the rest of the staff seemed to believe him. 

“Britta and I are going to attend this meeting for propriety’s sake. We’re going to listen to their ideas and write them down on a sheet of paper that we’re probably never gonna look at again. Then they’ll leave, and everything will go back to normal.” He looked around the room. “Okay?”

“Okay,” his coworkers chorused back. 

“Okay,” he repeated, more to himself than anything. “Britta?” 

“Right.” She nodded, quickly. “Let’s do this.” 

* * *

“We’ve been looking over our files,” Annie started before Jeff and Britta even had a  chance to sit down. Clearly she had been wanting to chide them about this for a long time. “And it looks like this department hasn’t exactly done much in the last few months.” 

“We’re working on building a park, actually.” Britta argued, leaning forward over the table. “There’s this big pit, see, and-“ 

“I don’t think they need to know about the pit.” Jeff interrupted. 

“No, I’d actually quite like to hear how this little _project_ is going,” Frankie replied, smoothly. “So, you were saying about this pit…?” 

“Well, yeah, there’s this huge pit over near Riverside, and we’re gonna turn it into a park. We’ve filled it in with concrete already, but we’ve had to pause the process because we found out that Chang’s been secretly living there for a while…” She shook her head. “It’s a long story. But our friend and colleague Troy Barnes fell into the pit last year, and that’s what started all of this.” A faint smile. “If it wasn’t for him, then…” 

“Troy Barnes?” Annie cut in. “He’s your coworker, yes?” 

“Yeah…” 

“Well, that brings us quite seamlessly to our main topic of this meeting.” Frankie said, and she and Annie shared a secret smirk. They seemed to be a good team - that’d make this slightly more difficult, but nothing Jeff couldn’t manage… Probably.

“In what ways do you believe there to be waste in this department?” Annie asked, retrieving a binder from the floor. In contrast to her formal dress (crisp white blouse, black blazer, pencil skirt, like the stereotypical business-woman stock photo) the binder was garishly pink, covered in a thick artificial fur, and when she opened it, Jeff could see stickers decorating each page. Jesus. 

“Um,” he couldn’t help but be distracted for a moment. “Well, I would say that there is none. What we do here, keeping our town’s parks alive and well, is surely valuable work, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“Yes,” Frankie replied, unfazed. “Of course. But what we mean, Mr…” 

“Winger.” 

“Ah. What we mean, Mr. Winger, is waste in terms of resources, time, staff…” 

“Again, I’d have to argue that there is none.” 

“Well, let’s make this a bit easier, then.” She flicked through her own binder (understated, brown leather, bland.) “We’ll start with staff.”

Britta shot Jeff a panicked look. He ignored it. 

“Can you tell us anything about Shirley Bennett?” 

“Shirley’s a treasure.” Britta started, before Jeff could stop her. “She’s one of the nicest, most caring people I’ve ever met. She works hard. _And_ she bakes us all brownies whenever the department does a good job. If you fired her, there would be outrage. I’d - _we_ would strike.” 

“Hey, no.” Jeff added hastily. “No, of course there wouldn’t be strikes. Because that would be _unprofessional and unproductive_.” He punctuated the last part with a pointed look towards his coworker. 

“I think what Britta is trying to say, is that Shirley is an incredibly valuable member of staff here. She works very hard and takes a lot of pride in this job. She absolutely is not a waste to the department - quite the opposite, I’d say.” He tried for a charming smile, but the two women seemed still unaffected. Ugh.

“Very well.” Annie took another look at her binder, flat open in front of her. “Troy Barnes, then. He appears to be your most recent hire, am I correct?” 

“Yes.’’ 

“And you said you hired him after he got involved with your little ‘pit’ project?” 

“Yes.” Jeff bristled a little, irritated by her condescending tone. 

“So, what are his qualifications? What was the interview like, before you decided to hire him? Did you even conduct an interview? What exactly is his job position? It doesn’t specify here, it seems no one actually knows what he does in this department.” 

“Of course we had an interview.” Jeff shot back, quite tired of being polite. “And he’s my assistant. We hired him due to his assistance and enthusiasm when it came to filling in the pit, and I realised he could be a good asset to this department.” 

“Hm.” Annie hummed noncommittally, and scribbled something down next to Troy’s name. 

Jeff attempted to discreetly crane his neck and see what she was writing, but it was no use - she caught him, shot him a glare, and pulled the binder closer protectively. 

“Our main concern,” Frankie went on, seemingly not noticing the movements of her partner. “When it comes to staff, is Pierce Hawthorne. He’s of the Hawthorne Wipes empire, yes?” 

“Your point?” Jeff asked, leaning back in his chair once more. 

“Well, he’s 62 years old.” Frankie said, cocking her head to the side. “Why on earth is he working as an intern?” 

“He applied for it.” Britta answered immediately. “And he got it, fair and square. As you can probably imagine, we don’t get too many intern applicants over here anyway, and out of the 4 responses we got when we sent out fliers to the nearby community college, Pierce was the one who seemed most eager.” 

“Fair enough.” Frankie jotted something down neatly as well, then dropped her formal tone and leaned across the table conspiratorially. “He’s not paid, is he?” 

“Hell no.” 

“Good.” She moved back again, looked at Annie, and somehow the pair communicated telepathically for a couple minutes. After this, they simultaneously and without warning began to pack up their binders and fix the buttons on their blazers. 

When they were ready to go, they stood over the table - where Jeff and Britta still sat, quite dumbstruck, not entirely sure of what had just happened. “Very well.” Frankie said. “We’ll be back tomorrow to start sorting things out. Our next department is City Planning, would you mind telling us where that is?” 

“The sign is just down the hall.” Britta replied, pointing. “If you follow the directions from there, you’ll get there in no time.” 

“Thank you.” 

Jeff got up, following them until they reached the door leading to the communal hallway. 

“Thank you for having us.” Frankie shook his hand. 

Annie done the same. “If you have any questions, we’ll be around the building.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear almost shyly. “And of course,” suddenly, her formal persona was back again, after seemingly stepping out for a second there. “We’ll be here tomorrow, too. And for the foreseeable future.” 

“Of course.” Jeff said. 

The ladies nodded and went on their way, Jeff, Britta, and the rest of the department - sans Troy - watching them as they walked. 

Troy and the other advisor - Abed, or something - returned five minutes later. 

“Guys,” Troy started, a hint of tears to his voice. “I think I’ve found a new best friend!” 


	12. (community) camping trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy and Abed go camping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Troy Barnes, Abed Nadir  
> relationship: n/a   
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by @gaybritta on tumblr

They set up camp at some time during the night. It’s dark outside, and cold, and the bags they’re carrying are _heavy._

The clearing they eventually find looks somewhat safe - surrounded by rocks and with a clear view back to the path they’ve been walking since early that morning. Abed leads the way.

Their packs are dumped the minute they decide to stay there overnight. Annie made them take way too much stuff, and even though they threw away half of it before leaving, their backs still ache from carrying them around all day. 

“Are you sure there’s no bears in this forest?”

“I never said that.” Abed shakes his head. He’s been trying for an Indiana Jones homage all day, but it hasn’t really felt right. He says it’s because the small national park here in Greendale doesn’t compare to the action-packed, adventure-perpetually-just-around-the-corner movies, but Troy thinks it’s just because this day has _sucked._ “But I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Troy retrieves the small tent from his pack, dropping it to the ground. “Hey, did Annie pack us a lighter?” 

“Why?” 

“Fire. It’s cold; we’ll need one.” 

“Then, yes. She packed us one, in my bag.” 

“Great,” Troy makes his way to where Abed has set his bag down, rummaging through it and emptying the contents out. “I can’t find it. Did she maybe put it in my bag instead?” 

“No, we threw it away.” Abed cocks his head to the side. “Remember?” 

“Then why did you say it was in your bag?” 

“I didn’t say that. I said Annie _put it in_ my bag. Which is true, but it’s not there anymore.” 

Sometimes, Troy really doesn’t get him. 

“Well, at least we have matches.” That was one of the items they decided to keep, as though the intention was to make a fire using sticks, the old-fashioned way, Troy had known it would be difficult. “Can you go get sticks? I’ll…uh, make the rock ring thingy.” 

Abed nods and takes off. 

* * *

20 minutes later, they have a fire going. Abed is preparing s’mores, and Troy has - almost - got the tent up properly. It’s his third time trying, but surely it can’t be _that_ hard. 

Once he thinks he has it up and sturdy, he returns to the fire. “Are they ready yet?” 

“Yep.” Abed has prepared a few unsmoked s’mores already, so they won’t have to wait too long after eating their first before grabbing their second. 

The two sit on the piece of tarp on the ground. Next to the fire, but not too close that it burns. Of course, it is still cold. 

They roast their snacks and eat in silence for a while, until Abed speaks up. “Are you mad at me for making you go camping with me?”

“Huh?” 

“Are you mad at me.” Abed repeats, staring with an unreadable expression. 

“What? No. Why would you think that?” 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “You just don’t seem as into this as me. And usually we’re into things together. I didn’t think camping would be like _camping…_ I thought it could be like the start of _The Great Outdoors._ But you’re acting like it’s the middle of _Blair Witch Project.”_

“No, I like it.” Troy assures him, checking the underside of his s’more briefly before turning it over. “It’s just cold, is all, and I feel like we shouldn’t have thrown away some of the stuff Annie got us.” 

“Hm.” 

“But seriously, this is _fun._ I’m eating s’mores in the woods with my best friend.” 

Abed gives him a small, rare smile. 


	13. (community) bad days and hallmark movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie has had a bad day at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Annie Edison, Jeff Winger  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> based on [this prompt list](http://bumblebeeslies.tumblr.com/post/153909083917/xhaeres-wearealsoboats-disgustingly-cute) and [this list of movies](http://bumblebeeslies.tumblr.com/post/153914904812/hallmark-movie-any-fandom-fic-prompts-holiday)

Annie’s had to work late for the night, which originally threw off Jeff’s plans. Tuesdays are the only time in the week when their schedules usually match up perfectly, meaning they can be home by the same time and have dinner together and just pass the evening in a nice, comfortable manner. But she had called at 6, saying she wouldn’t be home for another few hours. An assignment she had been working on got messed up somehow - one of the interns, Jeff assumed - and she was having to stay late to fix it. 

Not entirely used to spending Tuesday evenings alone, Jeff camped out in front of the TV for about an hour before making dinner (nothing complicated, just pasta) and starting to revise his lesson plans for the next week. 

Presently, he is in bed, atop the sheets and fully clothed, slumped into the pillows with some Hallmark movie playing on the little TV. The channel came on automatically when he switched it on - Annie, no doubt - and he couldn’t be bothered finding the remote to change it. 

The on-screen mother (approximately 30 years old) and her on-screen daughter (approximately 20 years old) are having an explosive argument (over what appears to be little more than a simple disagreement) and so he doesn’t hear the front door unlock, open, shut. He doesn’t hear Annie toeing off her shoes, nor her padding down the hall. 

When she opens the door to the bedroom without warning, Jeff has to admit that he jumps a little in surprise. “Hey,” 

Annie doesn’t say anything, but responds with a worn-out smile before clambering over the bed until she is laying half on top of him. 

He watches the TV in silence for a minute, not knowing if Annie wants to talk or not, but finally she speaks up. 

“Sorry for being late. I know Tuesday evenings are like, our only time and stuff, but I just-“ She breaks off into a sigh. 

Jeff gets it. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault, and besides, we have next Tuesday.” 

She gives a small nod, then groans. “It wasn’t _really_ the intern’s fault - I mean, it was, but he’s only been working there for a week or so, and it was an easy mistake to make… Ugh. If we had caught the filing error earlier, then it wouldn’t have been as much of a hassle, but it’d already been processed and it’s harder to get it back than it is to send it off, you know? I spent half the day doing that, and then had to use overtime to catch up on the paperwork I _should_ have already done.” 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, really. “Sounds like it sucked.” 

She nods properly now, pushing closer against his chest. “But I’m home now.” 

“You are.” 

Annie hums contentedly, then seems to finally realise what is playing. “Ooh, a Hallmark movie? That doesn’t seem like you. Is this a secret christmas obsession? Oh, are you sick or something?” 

“Funny.” He deadpans. “It came on automatically. I was just too lazy to change it.” 

“Mmhm, sure.” 

* * *

“Are you crying?” 

“What?” _Sniff._ “No.”

“Is this bad-day-tears, or sad-movie-tears?” 

“Sad movie.” 

“Seriously, Annie?” 

“They reunited! On _Christmas Day_ , Jeff!” 

“This is ridiculous.” 

She sticks her tongue out at him and he knows the night is back on track.


	14. (community) snowball resolutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff finds himself in a one-sided snowball fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie (kinda)  
> rating: G
> 
> set in s1, probably just before "comparative religion"

Jeff hates snow days. First snow of the year is usually the worst, ‘cause the excitement tends to get to people _that bit_ more - resulting in snowball fights. Lots of them. 

It’s not the sort of activity he generally likes to partake in, for a few reasons. Hair. Dirt. Potential for wet clothes. Also, you know, he’s not 12 years old. 

So on days like this - the first snow of the year - he tends to stay more low-key. Though it’s only his first year at Greendale and he’s a little inexperienced, he thinks he can stay out of trouble for one day. 

Or rather, _thought._

Basically, he’s walking to class when a lump of mostly-ice hits him in the back of his neck. 

“What the hell?” He spins round, touching where the ‘snowball’ connected, and there’s freezing cold drips already beginning their descent down the back of his shirt. Another hurriedly-made lump flies past, narrowly missing his shoulder. 

There’s a lot of people crossing the quad and so it takes him a second to identify the culprit. When they lock eyes, Annie lobs another clump of ice his way. 

All he can think to ask is, “Why?” 

“You’re being a jerk!” 

A fourth ball is thrown, but not with as much strength, and it only makes it halfway before falling to the ground. “I’m sure you’re right, but would you care to tell me what I did, first?”

Annie rolls her eyes and takes the time to cross her arms, the picture of petulance. Jeff uses this opportunity to cross the quad quickly, until he is standing less than 5 feet away from her. 

“Wait,” he says, watching her warily when she reaches down to grab another handful of already-yellow snow. “Just tell me what I did wrong.” 

Her eyes harden and before Jeff can defend himself, she’s crushed more snow together in her hands and throws it hard against his shoulder. “You told me you just wanted a copy of my answers for ‘ _note-taking_.’” 

 _That_. Right.

In all fairness he didn’t feel _great_ copying her homework, but he knew he’d feel a lot worse when Chang found out he hadn’t done it and decided to assign him even more work to catch up on. It was the lesser of two evils, what can he say. 

“Look,” he holds his hands up, partly as an admission of guilt, but mostly in an effort to protect his clothes from any more clusters of dirt-powder potentially heading his way. “I’m sorry, okay? But in my defence it technically _was_ used for note-taking. Just, notes in my homework.” 

This gains him another epic eyeroll. But at the very least, she hasn’t reached for more snow. 

“It shouldn’t be on me to make sure you do your homework, Jeff.” She scoffs, and there’s a note of hurt to it, too, and it hits him in the chest harder than any of her snowballs thus far have. “I’m not your - I don’t know, your mother. You’re an adult, and the assignment wasn’t _that_ hard, and if you actually _applied yourself_ to it I’m sure you would agree with me on that.” 

“It wasn’t for lack of trying, okay?” It was late at night, and the words might as well have been alphabet soup in his head. 

Annie regards him warily, but does uncross her arms. “You _really_ tried?” 

“Yes.” He feels as though his expression is overly earnest and totally ridiculous, but she must see something in it because turn softer, more Disney-like. 

“Jeff, if you ever need help with school stuff just tell me. _I_ can help! I’m good at academics, it’s kind of my thing.” She smiles at him, genuine and kind. “I won’t tell anyone… Just don’t _copy_. We can learn together!” 

He groans inwardly a little at the fact that he at the age of 35 is essentially accepting help from an 18-year-old tutor, but nods anyway. “That’d be helpful, actually.” 

Her beam is infectious and god, she’s too adorable when she’s like this. It’s almost dangerous. 

Annie gives a little nod and _‘goodbye’_ before she’s bouncing off, on her way to whatever class she has next. 

She doesn’t turn back until Jeff chucks a small clump of snow at her. It hits her backpack but she spins round anyway, gasping like he’s wronged her in the worst possible way. 

“Oh, I am _so_ getting you after lunch, Jeff Winger.” 

For whatever reason, he’s not dreading it as much as he probably should.


	15. (community) solo cup mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie and Britta tidy up after a holiday party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Annie Edison, Britta Perry  
> relationship: Britta/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> recent google search: name of red party cups

After having poured the rest of their friends into a shared taxi, Annie is surprised when she finds that Britta is the only one who stayed. But then, she definitely isn’t as drunk as the others, having gotten to the party an hour or so late, and deliberately refraining from giving into temptations - apparently, she has lunch with her parents tomorrow and beginning the day hungover would definitely put a damper on the whole event. 

But still, she was expecting her to leave with the others. It’s pretty late, and Britta Perry isn’t exactly known for volunteering to do hard work of any kind, let alone cleaning up after a party. 

However, it’s Britta who makes the remark when Annie re-enters the study room, barely looking up from her task of sweeping crumbs, leftover paper plates, and red solo cups into the garbage back she’s conveniently taped to the corner of the table. “Hey, what’re you still doing here?” 

Annie shrugs, though Britta can’t see her. “The room was messy. I don’t want to leave it in this state overnight.”

“Yeah, Greendale’s filthy enough as it is.” 

She makes a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat, moving over to the make-shift snack tables and grabbing the few cups left over there. 

“Thanks,” Britta replies, when Annie dumps the cups into the garbage bag. 

“No problem.” She sort of hovers around the room, looking for more things to tidy up, but other than the floor, which definitely needs vacuuming, it seems that Britta’s got it covered. “I guess everyone got a little overexcited tonight, huh?” 

“Pssh, yeah, that’s one way to describe it,” Britta scoffs, stuffing the last paper plate into the bag and tying it tightly shut. “Did you see Troy and Shirley under the mistletoe? He’s gonna have an imprint of her heel on his foot for the rest of the week, at least.” 

“Yeah,” the sprig is hanging just over the door, and Annie eyes it warily. She’s never really understood how a little twig like that can carry so much significance - and even though she would never admit to believing in it, she has to admit there’s a sort of magic to it. “Do you want me to get it down? I’ll have to get a chair, but…” 

“Oh no, we didn’t hang that up.” Britta grins knowingly. “The Dean specifically asked us not to interfere with it, though. I think he’s hoping on catching a certain someone under it in the next couple days before break.” 

“Mm.” 

She must read something into her tone, or whatever, because she immediately backtracks. “I mean, not to - like, if you were wanting to - with him-?” 

“No! Nope.” Annie shakes her head resolutely. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“O-kay,” Britta takes the filled bag in tow, dragging it until it’s just outside the door at the opposite end of the room. The janitors will be able to get it tomorrow, she guesses. “Hey, do you have any and sanitiser?” 

“Yes,” she responds automatically, retrieving the small bottle from her pocket and chucking it across the room to her. 

Britta thanks her, squeezing a little out onto her hands as she makes her way to the entrance side of the room. She gives it back and rubs it into her hands, until the faint smell of artificial liquorice aroma fills the space between them. Then she chuckles, and Annie looks away, and Britta asks if she’s ever been kissed under a mistletoe before. 

“N-no.” She manages to choke out, mind running a mile a minute. Trying to work out what Britta means by _that._ “Why? Have you?” 

“Nope,” she responds, then drops her tone to something quieter - slightly more vulnerable. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s always been something I think about around this time of year. I mean, we’re conditioned from a super young age to believe this is the best thing that can happen to you during the holiday season, and obviously that’s all bullshit, but-“ 

For whatever reason - the late hour, maybe, or the fact that they’re the only two here and that’s strange; it gives the experience an other-wordly feel to it - Annie suddenly feels all of her reservations fall away. Before she can think about it - if this really is what Britta was hinting at, or if she’s reading too much into such a small interaction - she leans forward and presses her lips against hers. It’s soft and short and sweet, and Britta smiles right back at her when she does move away. 

“Now we’ve both done it.” 


	16. (community) breaking a light sweat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie is under the weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> set in s1.  
> a part2 (can be read as a continuation/stand alone drabble) for this'll be uploaded tomorrow!

Annie’s not been herself today. There’s been a cold going round and half the study group has already caught it, and it doesn’t seem particularly bad, more of an inconvenience - but Annie’s not taken a second off of school, and Jeff can tell it’s wearing her down. 

She’s pale and tired-looking and sniffly, not at all her relentlessly-energetic self. As they’re leaving the library, one strap of her heavy rucksack falls down her arm, and instead of pulling it back up, she just allows the strange angle and carries on walking. 

Jeff, for his part, helps her out. He’s been trying to work up the courage ever since the start of the day, when he could already see she was struggling to carry everything, and now that the day is almost over he figures it’s his last chance. 

“Can I carry your bag?” Except - no, that came out a little too junior high for his tastes. “I mean, do you want me to?” 

“Mm. Yeah, thank you.” She slows to a stop with him, and slips the straps off, handing it to him. 

He nearly topples over with the weight of it. “Jesus, Annie, what’ve you got in here?” 

She makes a half-hearted attempt at a glare. “Just my books. And homework. I don’t like the idea of leaving all my schoolwork in my locker over break, so I’m trying to take most of it home.” 

Jeff juts a nod as they leave the building, the stale indoor air in his lungs being replaced by slightly less stale outdoor air. It’s cold and windy and probably not doing anything good for his hair - or Annie, probably. 

It’s hard finding the right way to word his request without sounding over-involved, or creepy, or fatherly (which, no) but eventually he asks whether she’s planning on sleeping off the cold once she gets back to her apartment. 

“I can try, I guess.” She lets out a long-suffering sigh. “But Dildopolis downstairs is having a sale - their ‘advertising’ is all I can hear 24/7. I don’t think I’ve gotten more than 10 hours of sleep in the past 3 days.” 

“Oh.” An idea suddenly strikes him - and doesn’t exactly sit well, but he decides to jump on it before he can second-guess it any more. “Well, I mean. We could go back to my place if you want. I live in a pretty quiet neighbourhood, and I’ll let you borrow the couch for a couple hours.” 

Annie hums, pretending to consider it. “I’ll only accept if you agree to let me have your bed.” 

It’s a joke, but still - “Sure, fine.” 

She regards him skeptically. “You’d let me commandeer your bed for the evening?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs, trying to convey his _okayness_ about it all. “Why not?” 

“Don’t you have things to do?” 

Well, yes, usually. But, “Nope. Nothing tonight.” 

Though they keep walking she sort of stares at the ground for a moment, thinking. Then finally: “Are you sure you’d be alright with this?” 

“Of course. You’re sick and you’re- Consider this me breaking a light sweat for you.” 

She smiles faintly at the memory. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, thank you.” 

Oh, great. “You’re welcome.” 


	17. (community) hot chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie is sick and goes to take a nap at Jeff's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie (sort of???)  
> rating: G
> 
> part two!

“You know, I was joking about the bed thing.” Annie quips once Jeff has closed the door behind her. She’s nervous and fluttery all of a sudden, like she’s just entered a place she shouldn’t be in, like she’s intruding somehow - which is ridiculous, she knows, because it was totally _Jeff’s_ idea in the first place. 

But… It’s _his apartment._ And they haven’t known each other for long. (Nearly four months.) And she doesn’t think anyone from the group has actually been here before. (Except maybe Britta - Annie never knows what’s going on between those two and she doesn’t care to find out.) 

“The couch is fine.” She goes to pry the straps of her bag off her shoulders before remembering Jeff has it, and settles for taking her coat off instead. Not because she wants to, but she doesn’t want to embarrass herself from making the motion as if to take _something_ off and then not following through with it. But then she’s not sure what to do with the garment, so she sort of folds it across her arms, hugging it to her chest and trying to maintain any sense of the warmth she was getting from it.

“Where do you want your bag?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Your bag. Like, if you’re staying on the couch, then-“ 

“Um, yeah. By the couch is fine.” 

He nods and places it there, resting against the coffee table. Not dropping it, which she’d sort of feared. When he straightens up again, he flexes and rubs at his hands. Protesting, “It’s really heavy,” after he sees she’s sort of smirking at him. 

“Baby,” she reprimands, then realises how that must sound. “You’re a.” 

“Okay, Yoda.” 

She smiles quickly, tightly, before sinking down into the couch. _God._ She blames it on the cold, plus the lack of sleep - her brain is fuzzy and hardly working. 

“If you’re cold, there’s a throw over back of the couch.” Jeff says, gesturing one-handedly while he picks up clutter from the coffee table. 

“Thank you.” She pulls it off from behind her and sits it across her lap, back still ramrod straight. She can’t relax - she doesn’t even know what she was expecting, when she accepted his offer to come here, but it probably wasn’t this; feeling flustered and uncomfortable and like some sort of domestic voyeur. 

And maybe Jeff can tell that things aren’t exactly going great because he offers her a hot drink. “There’s coffee, or… My mom left a bottle of cider, last time she was here, so I guess I could heat that up - wait, shit. I forgot, you’re-“ 

“I think I have a packet of instant hot chocolate in my bag.” Annie interrupts. Probably if he dwells too much on her age, it’ll just make things even weirder. 

“Oh, great.” He nods, watching as she rummages through her bag. “Wait, why? Do you just carry hot chocolate around with you?” 

“No. But I finished off the last packet at home this morning, so I had to run by the store before school.” She grimaces. “The traffic was so bad, I was almost late to class.” 

“You’d risk nearly _being late to class_ just so you could have your hot chocolate fix?” He gasps faux-scandalously, and though she can’t see him she can tell that he’s smirking. 

She wracks her brain for a second, trying hard to think up a particularly witty retort - something that’ll leave him stumped, force him to stop teasing her - but only comes up with: “It’s a holiday staple, Jeff.” 

He snorts. 

“And-“ she says, having finally found the small packet (buried underneath her Astronomy textbook), “if you really don’t want to make it for me, then I’ll do it myself.” 

“No, you’re sick.” He walks back from the small kitchenette to the side of the couch, and when he takes the proffered packet Annie shoots him her most Jeff-like grin. Two parts smug, one part irritatingly charming. She’s not sure if he recognises it as something his own - something she’s borrowed from him - but he rolls his eyes before stalking back, and she can’t help but wonder if _that’s_ something _he_ borrowed from _her._

It only takes a few minutes or so to make up, so while Jeff does so, Annie takes the time to look around his apartment a little more. It’s not hard to do from her seat on the couch, because despite the impression he gives off (flashy, smarmy ex-lawyer) it’s really not as large as she thought it would be. 

Mostly the walls are just different shades of brown. The furniture is nice, yes, and expensive-looking, and far above any budget Annie could ever set out for herself - but nevertheless they’re boring. Understated. No personality. The living room looks more like a showroom in IKEA. There aren’t really any personal touches; no sign of anyone living here.

She wonders how much time he spends at home. And what he does when he’s at home. The people he brings home. Girls mostly, she guesses. 

She casts a look to his open-doored bedroom. The unmade bed…

“Here.” Jeff’s voice startles her. She blinks a few times before accepting the warm mug. “It’s hot,” he adds, needlessly. Then just sort of stands there for a moment, next to the couch. Not sure what to do. 

“Um, I’m feeling kind of tired.” She says, mostly because the silence is suffocating. “Would you mind if I put my feet up?” 

He glances down at her shoes. Already off, placed neatly under the coffee table. “Sure, that’s fine.” 

She smiles gratefully and twists to the side so that her back is against the armrest before swinging her legs up. As she gets more comfortable, pulling the throw blanket over, she hears Jeff stifle a chuckle. 

“What?” She asks, craning her neck to look at him. 

“Nothing.” 

“No, really.” 

“You’re just so tiny. The couch isn’t even that long, and you don’t fit. What are you, five one?”

“Five _three.”_ She argues back, but this only seems to further amuse him. “This isn’t even a normal sized couch, anyway, it’s… A giant couch. I bet all your furniture’s made for giants.” 

Jeff doesn’t say anything in response - he just stands there, grinning at her, and she smiles back for a moment until it’s gone on too long. Not a normal-friendship-buddies sort of length. More, well. 

He clears his throat. “I’ll go watch TV in my room so you can rest. You must be really tired.” 

Annie nods, agreeing with him even though it isn’t really true. 

“Just, tell me if the volume’s up too loud, or, or if you need anything else…” 

“I will.” He gives her a small nod - though it appears to be more to himself than to her - before leaving. 

In the silence that follows, she sips her drink. 


	18. (community) twenty-five to twenty-six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some pointless fluff to celebrate Annie Edison's birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Annie Edison, Jeff Winger  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> in case you missed it, i published (what was supposed to be) yesterday's drabble today also, so check out chpt 17 if you like

She’s almost asleep when Jeff rolls over in bed, slinging an arm over her waist and tugging until they’re pressed together, her back to his chest. 

“Mm.” Annie manages to mumble. “Too hot.” 

“I know,” he presses his lips to her cheek and she can feel his smirk. This does wake her up a little. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, you doof.”  

“Sure.” 

She tries to roll her eyes but almost involuntarily closes them instead. It’s just after midnight now and it’s been a busy day and she’s _tired._

So she gives in and shuts her eyes for a little while, feeling herself ease into a gently dozing state, then-

“Hey.” 

“Hmm?”

“Happy birthday.” He’s still very close and she can sense his breath when he speaks, ghosting against her neck. 

“’s not my birthday yet.” She protests, still not entirely sure if it’s a dream or if she’s awake again. 

She could swear his hold of her tightens slightly- not in a restricting way, really, but more relaxation: he’s no longer restraining _himself,_ it seems. “It is. It’s past midnight, right?” 

“Right.” 

“So it’s the 19th.” 

She smiles sleepily, blearily. Eyes closing again. “I guess.” 

He stops talking then, resumes touching. Kisses the back of her neck and rubs his thumb in small circles where his hand rests just above her ribs. It’s relaxing and tingly and soft and Annie feels herself slipping back into sleep. But then she remembers something, and with some difficulty rouses. 

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” 

He’s refused to tell her all week, claiming it to be a surprise. But surely now…

“Nope. Can’t tell you. It’s-“

“A surprise?” 

“Yeah.” 

She lets out a long sigh. “I don’t usually make a big deal out of my birthday.” 

“I know.” He stops again, and she can tell he wants to see her face, so she twists around in his arms. 

“I mean, I just didn’t want to. After, you know.” She tilts her head pointedly and raises her eyebrows.

Jeff gets it and nods. 

“But ever since we started dating, you’ve been all over it.” She shakes her head. “I mean, obviously there’s only been two birthdays since we started this, so far. But the last one was just - wonderful.” 

He gives a small, pleased and just barely self-conscious smile. One she doesn’t see a lot of, and that other people see even less. “I’m glad.” 

“And even though I don’t know what this one will entail, I know I’m gonna love it.” 

“You better.” He jokes, “I tried really hard. And you know I _hate_ trying.” 

“Mm. But you _love_ me.” 

“Yup.” He’s unabashed in his confirmation and leans in to kiss her gently, nuzzling his nose against hers when she pulls away. 

Annie bites her lip and attempts to gather the courage needed to say what she needs to say next. It’s not that she thinks he’ll make fun of her for it, but even though they’ve been together for a while now there’s still a part of her that scurries away from the prospect of showing any of her vulnerabilities. Thinking maybe if she does so, if she lets him know the extent of her mind and the things it can do - to her, to him, to _them_ \- he’ll run for the hills. 

But that isn’t true. It just isn’t. 

“Will you still love 26-year-old me?” 

“Hmm?” 

She isn’t sure if he means, _can you please repeat that?_ or _I have no clue what you’re talking about._

“I mean - like, people can change a lot in one year.” She explains, hurriedly. “And sure, you love me right now, 25-year-old me, but what if next year I’m different? What if I’m not the same Annie anymore, and you don’t-?” 

He shakes his head. “I love _Annie._ Not 25-year-old Annie or 26-year-old Annie or, I don’t know, 22-year-old Annie. You’re always gonna be the same person deep down, no matter how many years of growth and change you’ve had.” He gathers her in close again, and though it’s still too hot for her liking, she snuggles in even tighter. Speaking the last part like it’s most important, like a revelation. “I think I’m gonna love you forever.” 

“Mmm.” She relaxes again, one hand curled over his waist. Holding on, as if either of them are going anywhere. “I think I’m gonna love you forever, too.”


	19. (community) sweet memes are made of this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie sends Jeff memes while he's at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> yeah im sorry

> _JEFF to ANNIE, 13:23_
> 
>  
> 
> _they’re not that funny!_

 

> _ANNIE to JEFF, 13:25_
> 
>  
> 
> _sure they are! :-)_
> 
>  
> 
> _*attached: one image*_
> 
>  
> 
> _*attached: one image*_
> 
>  
> 
> _*attached: one image*_

 

He opens the new three pictures she’s sent, expecting the worst - and yes, they’re pretty much the same as the last ones. A different punchline, but the same effect. Annie’s been sending them for the past couple days, always during his lunch break like clockwork after he made the mistake of complaining about how bored he was at Greendale. At first Jeff thought maybe it was just a way to get back at him, get him to stop complaining so much - but then it continued. 

And he just doesn’t _get it._ Like, sure, it was funny the first time. But it’s always the same, down to the script, down to the delivery of the punchline. _‘Bae, come over.’ ‘I can’t.’ ‘My parents aren’t home.’_

He doesn’t know where she finds them but ever since the original catalyst he’s been receiving at least 5 every day. No matter how much he protests. 

(On the contrary, he’s starting to think maybe his protestations are just fuelling the fire. Like, she’s enjoying his confusion more than she would enjoy the prospect of laughing at the jokes together.)

But that’s okay, because now he has a game plan. 

Scrolling down Twitter this morning, he saw Troy had liked a tweet that Garrett had reposted; a set of images proclaiming how much he loves his girlfriend. (Meaning in that case that Garrett either has a girlfriend, or is particularly besotted with a new body pillow.) He’d saved them, waiting for the perfect time to post them publicly. Which seems to be now. 

He uploads the first one to his Facebook feed, leaving the caption blank save for tagging Annie by name. 

And waits. 

It’s only a minute or so later - she must have checked the notification on her phone - that he gets another text. 

 

> _ANNIE to JEFF, 13:34_
> 
>  
> 
> _WHAT was that??_

 

> _JEFF to ANNIE, 13:36_
> 
>  
> 
> _two people can play this game_

 

> _ANNIE to JEFF, 13:36_
> 
>  
> 
> _touche._

It’s another five minutes before he posts the next one. A little more sappy than the first. Tags her again. 

No response, but he’s pretty sure she’s seen it. 

By the time he posts the final image - the 5th - he’s starting to get a reaction from their friends. Shirley’s commented on the most recent one, posting a string of kissy-face-face emojis with a ring icon thrown in at the end, which he likes to think is a mis-type but probably is actually a not-so-subtle hint. Britta commented _‘GROSS’_ on the first couple, then gave up. 

Annie still hasn’t texted him back though, and he does start to feel as if maybe he’s done something wrong - because when he tags her in stuff like this, it goes straight to her profile and perhaps this isn’t the sort of thing she wants her friends from UC Denver or, god forbid, potential employers, to see. 

But then his phone buzzes, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 

 

> _ANNIE to JEFF, 15:49_
> 
>  
> 
> _i know you’re making fun of my AWESOME sense of humour but_
> 
>  
> 
> _i actually find all that kind of sweet_
> 
>  
> 
> _< 3_

 

The notifications of her liking all of the photos consecutively all show up on his phone at once.


	20. (community) sentimentality of insignificant garments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeff lets Annie have (one of) his Greendale sweatshirts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> so I've sort of been wanting to write this for a while. the clips shown in s2ep21 show annie wearing a hoodie that looks way too big for her, and even though its probably way too small to have ever belonged to jeff its fun to imagine~

_2010._

 

So it all starts innocently enough. After the stop-motion Christmas fiasco, the group meets up one last time to exchange gifts. Jeff hosts. (Britta says he made the seemingly out-of-character decision purely because it gives him the power to end the party as soon as he pleases, and Annie’s inclined to agree they’re only there for an hour or so before he starts dropping hints for them to leave.) 

But it’s started to snow outside and while Annie usually prides herself in being prepared, the cute-but-maybe-not-so-functional winter coat she wore to the party doesn’t have a hood attached. It’s only a short walk to her car, but nevertheless she doesn’t feel like getting her hair wet. 

She complains about this to Jeff as she gets ready to leave. Mindlessly, not thinking he’s even listening, not thinking he even cares. 

But then she reaches for her coat on the peg by the door and he tells her to _“wait a second”_ before rushing back to the living room. He grabs something from behind the couch and throws it to her. 

“Are you sure?” She asks, holding the grey Greendale hoodie out in front of her. It’s huge and probably poorly made but the inside lining looks so _soft._

“I don’t need it.” He shrugs. 

“Well,” she considers it another moment before making her decision, slipping it on over her cardigan and thanking him before pulling on her coat over it all. 

It’s sort of a sweet gesture and not exactly his usual MO and maybe makes her heart flutter a little-

But then she realises why he’s being so casual about it. 

“Hey, Pierce got you this!” 

Jeff grins like she’s caught him. “I already have, like, three identical ones. The Dean gives me them every so often. Usually accompanied by an invitation to ‘model’ it for him.” 

Annie shudders at the phrase. (Then wonders about the image.) “It’ll get soaked, though. Are you sure you won’t want it back? I can put it in the dryer and bring it back here in a couple days?” 

He shakes his head. “Keep it. Like I said. I don’t need it, and, I don’t know. Maybe you do.”

“In that case, thank you.” She responds and after saying her goodbyes wears it out, holding the hood up over her head with both hands as she walks against the wind. It’s wet and heavy when by the time she does get home and she puts it on a clothes horse to dry without a second thought. 

* * *

_2011_

 

The next time it comes up, they’re camping. She’s worn it a couple times around him since but mostly wears it alone. It comes in handy when she’s sick, or when the heating in her apartment is bust, or when she needs to do a quick errands run to the store. She doesn’t wear it a lot, really, because there’s something weird and wrong about it - ‘cause borrowing clothes isn’t a very friendly-platonic-buddy-type interaction, really, and she doesn’t it to seem strange (to Jeff.) She also has a slight fear (for herself) that if she wears it too often she’ll get used to it, feel more comfortable, which shouldn’t really happen because their relationship is vehemently Not Like That. 

But anyway, the camping trip was sort of last-minute and she wasn’t sure how cold it would be at night and besides, it had been a few months since he last saw it so maybe Jeff would have forgotten already. She thought he probably had. 

But when Britta and Shirley finally manage to get a fire going, Jeff discreetly asks her for help putting up his tent. (He plays it off like he’s just too lazy to do it, but there’s an vulnerability to his expression that makes Annie think otherwise.) It’s a basic task and doesn’t take too long, and when she straightens up again and waits for him to thank her, he surprises her by tugging, lightly, on the hem of her sweatshirt. 

It’s a small acknowedgement, barely noticeable really, but he gives her a small smile that looks sort of pleased. She smiles back and returns to the company of their friends before she has a chance to overanalyse anything, but she could swear she can actually _feel_ where he touched her, even though it’s ridiculous, even though he didn’t really touch her at all. 

* * *

_2017_

 

Jeff gets home earlier than he expected; a meeting organised by the Dean cancelled last minute. Annie’s home, but not in the living room or the kitchen when he arrives, so he shucks his jacket and shoes as quickly as possible and makes his way to the bedroom. 

He knocks on the door before entering and hears a muffled squeak, the rustling of several papers hurriedly being pushed to the side, and, finally, “Come in!” 

He does. “Hey.” 

She’s sitting on the bed, cross-legged, the pillows dented where she’s been leaning. “I didn’t think you would be home so early.” 

Taking in the mass of papers, highlighters, and four ( _four!)_ binders, he definitely agrees. “I can see that.” 

“Help me tidy up?” 

“Sure.” After nearly a year of living with her, he’s fairly comfortable with her fling system, and gathers up half of the loose-leaf papers before sorting them into piles. Notes, planning, research, drafts. She finishes up making her own four piles and places them all into the corresponding binders with four sharp snaps. 

“Dinner?” 

“I think there’s ingredients for pasta… Wait.” He’s suddenly found himself distracted, taking in what she’s wearing at last. “Is that my old Greendale hoodie?” 

Annie flushes a little, crossing her arms self-consciously. “Maybe.” 

“You kept that?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Why?” He can’t help but chuckle a bit, even as her expression cycles from ‘embarrassed’ to ‘mildly annoyed.’ 

“I don’t know! It’s warm and comfortable and - and you gave it to me.” She shrugs. “And maybe that meant a lot at the time.” She meets his eyes hesitantly, like she’s wondering what his reaction will be. 

God, she’s too adorable for words sometimes - if he were her, he’d definitely be _aww-_ ing right now. But he’s not, so instead he crawls over the bed to pull her close, laughing like it’s a joke but kissing her so she knows it isn’t. 


	21. (nmtd/lolilo) gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Bea exchange presents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Nothing Much To Do/Lovely Little Losers  
> characters: Benedick Hobbes, Beatrice Duke  
> relationship: Beadick   
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by anon

To avoid the stress of quickly opening presents before heading out to meet their friends and family on Christmas Day, Ben and Bea agree to open their gifts to each other on the 24th. It makes more sense, and alleviates some of the excitement. 

Ben insisted Bea open hers first, so she’s on the third and final box, lifting it to her ear and shaking it lightly. It doesn’t make a sound and Ben’s expression remains unreadable, so she lowers it to the ground again. “Can I open it?” 

“Well, what else would you do?” 

She sticks her tongue out at him, but tears off the wrapping paper anyway, her confusion only growing when she’s met with a white cardboard box. 

“Keep going.” 

She shoots him a suspicious look but slips open the box anyway. Inside is a mess of tangled ribbons, and when she pushes those aside and reaches her hand into the bottom of the box, she finds…

A card. 

“What is this?” Bea asks, turning the card over in her hands. It’s just a generic Christmas card, from the looks of it. 

“Open it up.” Ben replies, cryptically. 

She does so. A small leaf of paper falls out and drops into her lap. Picking it up, she reads the message written on it, and immediately feels overwhelmed with joy. 

“Ben. Benedick. Oh my god.” She manages to stutter one breath in, and another out. “We’re getting a cat?” 

“It seems like we’re gonna be living here for a while, at least.” He says, shrugging it off like it’s not a big deal, like it’s not _life-alteringly amazing._ “And you’ve always wanted one, and I miss my old cat from back in Messina, and…yeah.” 

Bea lurches forward, slinging her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly in a burst of happiness. “This is the best gift ever.” 

After a couple minutes of kissing, hugging, and planning which shelter to go to and when, Bea finally decides to hand over her gifts to Ben. 

“Just, like, be prepared.” She says before. “I mean. Like, your present for me was so - _so_ great, and this might… Might not compare? I don’t know.” 

Ben tells her not to be so silly because he’ll love whatever she’s got him anyway because it’s _her_ who got it for him and that makes her feel a little better but she still has to swallow down a lump of nervousness when tears away the paper to reveal the shoebox underneath. 

“Shoes?” He asks, tilting his head and smiling slightly. 

“Maybe,” she replies. 

He opens the box the rest of the way, just enough so that he can see the detail on the shoes, then lets out a sort of yelp and shuts it again. “You _didn’t.”_

Bea shrugs, pleased her present to him seems to have as good of an effect on him as his did on her. 

Ben reopens the box, takes another quick look before shutting it again and moving it to the side, apparently so overcome with emotion about the gift that he can’t bear to look at them for longer than a couple of seconds. 

“Come here.” He urges, and Bea follows.


	22. (community) new year's eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve, 2016. Jeff and Annie discuss their resolutions for the upcoming year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by @harryspaceshipmchale - i _think_ i filled this prompt? skiing is briefly mentioned lol

At the end of the day they’re exhausted and Annie’s arms are tired and achey and although they had planned to do…other things…,as soon as they’re finished with dinner and back at the little cabin they just collapse on the couch. 

“Maybe a day of marathon skiing before we have to stay up until midnight wasn’t the best idea.” Annie admits, groaning when she reaches for the remote to turn on the TV. 

“Maybe not.” Jeff agrees, sinking back further into the cushions. When Annie returns he slinks an arm round her waist until she settles against him. “It was fun, though.” 

“Yeah,” she hums. “Shame we’re leaving tomorrow. I feel like the past few days have gone by in a blur.’’ 

“Mm.” He doesn’t say anything more, just watches the band play in Times Square. Annie’s fairly certain he doesn’t have a clue who the group are and guesses that the only reason he’s watching them so intently is because he’s thinking about something. 

So she waits.

But instead of anything profound, he asks how she’s feeling about the new year. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, are you looking forward to it?” 

“Of course. I love new year. And - obviously, it’ll be nice to leave 2016 behind.” 

“Definitely.” 

“What about you?” She nudges his ribs through his sweater. “Looking forward to 2017? Ooh, are you gonna make any resolutions?” 

He smiles and it’s almost a smirk. “Annie, you know me. I don’t do new year’s resolutions.” 

She rolls her eyes. “Surely you have _some_ goals you’d like to accomplish next year, though?” 

“‘Course I do.” 

Exasperated, “ _Those_ are resolutions.” 

“No, they’re not,” he argues. “Resolutions are glorified pipe dreams chicken-scratched into journals and typed into tweets at the end of the year that you have no actual plans or even intention to accomplish.” At her _oh, really?_ sort of look, he clarifies: “I have goals.” 

“Pray tell, what are these _goals_ for the new year?” 

A flash of self-consciousness sweeps across his face for a split second. He soon recovers, goes back to the same shameless, _I-know-you-think-I’m-ridiculous-but-hey-it’s-totally-working-for-me_ grin. “Well, first on the list is to trim a few seconds off my mile time, then increase gym hours, and-“ 

“Oh my god, shut _up.”_ She shoves her hand over his mouth but he’s laughing anyway, and so is she a little bit. “Is that seriously all you care about?” 

“No. There’re a bunch of other _goals_ I have for 2017, but you don’t seem to want to hear them, so…” 

Annie removes her hand immediately. “Go on, then.” 

To his credit, his expression becomes more serious. “I’m gonna try to start marking papers as soon as I get them back, rather than waiting until the night before I said they’re due.” 

Annie nods. It’s a fair goal, since marking them the way he has been lately - totally last minute - has just caused a whole lot of unnecessary stress. 

“And, and I want to commit to calling my mom more. Like, once a week, maybe. And then-“ he breaks off, his free hand fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I mean, there’s other - stuff. I’d like to commit to.” He has the same earnest, frightened expression now as he had before, but this time it’s prolonged, and she gets that he’s been working up to this the whole conversation. 

Her heartbeat picks up. “Other… Stuff?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, and his arm loosens around her, like he’s afraid that whatever he’s about to say next might scare her away, send her running for the hills. (To compensate, she pushes further against him, but she’s not sure if he feels it or not because he seems very focused inward; on the speech he’s undoubtedly preparing in his head right now.) 

“I’m not - Like, this isn’t a proposal, or anything. It’s just. Forward thinking.” 

“Forward thinking?” She repeats, half amused by the situation, half curiously hopeful. 

“I don’t know! Things are going well with us, right? I mean, we’re here. In a ski lodge. Together. Far away from civilisation and friends and family and malls.” 

Annie’s not sure what the last part has to do with the former, but she nods anyway and tries her best to nonverbally encourage him to continue. 

“That’s not just a casual couple-y thing. That’s - _this_ is serious. Right?” 

“Right.” 

“So, if it’s serious now, then if all goes well it’ll stay serious next year. Maybe it’ll get even more serious. We’re living together already. There’s - Just, there’s one last step, you know?” 

“I don’t want you to feel - I mean, we don’t _have_ to take that step. If you don’t want to, or if we’re not ready, or if…If we don’t want to.” 

“But I do.” He says, working up the courage to look her in the eye at last. “I do, I do want to. I want… That.”

“Marriage?” She interjects, mainly to check his reaction to the word itself. If he can hear it without wincing, then maybe he is serious about this after all. Maybe it’s not just an adverse reaction to something she thought was inconsequential that happened on the trip; maybe he isn’t just a little drunk and delirious after a day of skiing and good food. 

And yet he doesn’t slink away, or cringe. He just. Stares. Continually. 

Holding her gaze, like he knows what she’s doing and wants to prove her suspicions wrong. 

“Yeah. And, just, maybe I’ll ask about that. Next year. I think - I think I’d like to, I mean, as long as you’d be… Cool with it.” 

“Cool with it?” She feels warm and flushed and jittery, like she’s downed 3 cups of coffee. “Of course I’d - _Jeff._ Of course I’d want to marry you.” 

“Really? That’s - that’s great.” He huffs out a laugh, grin matching her own. “So, it’s a plan, then? I can ask you next year?” 

“ _Yes.”_ She has to stop herself from adding _‘please’,_ not wanting to sound too desperate. Or silly. Not that he’d make fun of her, and she doesn’t think he’d freak out, but still. 

“Alright, then.” He pulls her closer once more, and she burrows her head against his chest, like she can’t get close enough. Sometimes she feels like she really can’t. “Settled.” 

“Wait, so. When are you gonna do it?” 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” 

She scoffs and opens her mouth to prod him further about it, but another thought suddenly strikes. “So… You’re saying that one of your new year’s resolutions is to propose to me?” 

“ _Goals,_ ” he corrects. “Not resolutions.” 

“Is there really a big difference?”

“I _want_ to do this. If it was a resolution, there’s less chance of it actually happening. Ergo, a goal.”

“Fine, then. One of your _goals_ for the new year is to propose to me?” 

“Well, _yeah.”_

She kisses him, sweet and excited and hopeful, and he returns it, sure and confident and resolved.

* * *

_(“Wait, so what are your new year’s resolutions?”_

_“Um…”_

_“I told you mine.”_

_“I know. It’s just, yours was so - so great, and I wasn’t expecting it to be so heartfelt, and mine’s are kind of… Kind of silly, now, to be honest.”_

_“What?”_

_“…I wanna learn how to ski better.”)_


	23. (community) unnecessary hand-holding in social situations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie runs into Jeff at the mall. Then she runs into an old friend from high school at the mall. A short fake-dating au, set after the Christmas episode in S3.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> prompted by @bethanyactually

“Annie?” 

She turns around so quickly she’s almost whiplashed. He’s _here_. In the flesh. 

They haven’t spoken much since the whole Glee Club thing, and the consequent get-together-slash-recuperating event held afterwards. It’s awkward, or it should be at least. The last time she saw him - at the apartment, when he was on his way out - he kind of apologised for the whole thing and it wasn’t his fault but Annie didn’t know what to say. She wonders, now, if he stills feels that way - like what happened in the costume room was on him. 

“Jeff!” She goes in for a half-hug, clutching the her shopping bags in her free hand. “What’re you doing here?” 

“I mean,” he looks around, like the answer is obvious. “It’s the mall, Annie.” 

“Right. I forgot, you spend more of your waking hours here than you do at school.”

“Funny.” He rolls his eyes at her, though still leaning forwards, towards her.

“I try.” She quips. 

“I’m just getting last minute Christmas gifts.” He shrugs. “‘Going to my mom’s, so I’ve gotta get her something, at least.” 

She never really expected Jeff to be the type of guy to go home to his mother at Christmas. But then again, she never expected him to be the type of person to do anything at all at Christmas. He’s never mentioned any traditions or family members or parties of any kind. 

“Well, have you got any ideas?” 

“No, mostly I just go round the stores, and if I see something I think she’d like, I get that.” 

“But what if you don’t see anything?” 

He shrugs again. 

“If you don’t know where to go or what to get, I bet I can help!” She rocks onto her toes, unable to keep still. Buying presents is fun, even if she doesn’t get to see the person when they open it. And it gives her an extra task to pass the time - as she’s finished all her Christmas shopping, her only other plans for the day were to go home and get a start on her reading for Biology. 

“You don’t know my mom.” Jeff deflects. Whether it’s because he’s weirded-out by her willingness to help, or because he actually doesn’t want her to, she isn't sure. 

“If you _tell me_ about her, then I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something she’d like.” There’s only a _hint_ of snark to her tone. (But seriously - what kind of person knows a friend for _3 years_ without ever mentioning their own mother? Annie’s 90% sure that if she were still in contact with her parents, she would have introduced Jeff - and the rest of the group - to them years ago. Or, 70% at least. More than 50.) 

Jeff looks around briefly like he’s half expecting someone from school to walk right up and catch them (even though they’re not doing anything wrong) before sighing resignedly. “Fine.” 

She tries not to let out a squeak. 

* * *

Usually Annie doesn’t mind running into people at the mall, or otherwise when she’s out and about, but today just seems excessive. 

Example: The girl woman standing in front of her right now, chattering away, lipsticked smile permanently plastered across her face. 

Krista Marsh. Annie remembers her vaguely from high school - they had chemistry and history together. She hasn’t seen her since she dropped out, and never really bothered to keep in touch via Facebook or anything. 

Krista’s going on about her new boyfriend, the apartment she lives in downtown and how she’s now in her second year at U-of-D. She took a gap year after high school, obviously, to work and volunteer and gain likewise otherworldly experiences that Annie will never come close to. 

And, because the chat can’t get any worse, Jeff picks that moment to emerge from the nearby store. 

“I didn’t see anything for mom in there, but I did buy myself a new coat - I mean, it’s winter after all and it’s Christmas, so surely I deserve to treat myself-“ He stops short when he realises the situation. 

“Hi, Jeff.” Annie says, strained. “This is Krista, we went to highs school together.” 

“Right, right. Krista.” He offers a bewildered hand for her to shake. “Jeff Winger.” 

“I see.” Krista muses, looking him up and down - quite indulgently, Annie notices. “And who are you? In relation to Annie, I mean, not to be rude, but I’m only asking because she hasn’t mentioned you. You’re her… Uncle?” 

Jeff looks offended, and he opens his mouth to argue back and Annie has to mediate the situation but she doesn’t know what to say and-

“Boyfriend!” 

It takes longer for her to process it than it does the others. “He’s your - Oh. Your boyfriend? Really? That’s…” Krista trails off, glancing between Annie and Jeff doubtfully. 

Annie, meanwhile, wants a giant hole to spontaneously open up in the ground and swallow her.

Jeff shifts his feet. Oh god, she's probably ruined their (precarious at best) relationship for good, now. 

But then he surprises her. In one quick moment - so fast she hardly has time to react - his arm is around her waist. 

“Boyfriend, yeah.” He lies, easily. 

“Oh. Um, forgive me for - but how ol- I mean, how long have you two been dating?” 

“A couple months.” Again, he seems to have no trouble keeping up the lie. 

“That’s - lovely. Really. Annie, it’s great you found someone.” Her tone is practically dripping with condescension and although she really wants to slap her Annie remains rooted to the spot. 

Krista reaches out to awkwardly tap Annie’s shoulder, giving her a forced smile, which Annie returns. 

“Alright, well. I guess I should get going, you know, lots of things to do and everything.” She takes a  tentative step back, without actually leaving the perimeter of conversation. “Annie - you’re on Facebook now, right? - message me! We should hang out sometime, I’d love to catch up.” 

“Sure,” Annie replies, but it’s sort of hollow. 

Krista nods, the same strained smile on her face, before turning in the direction of the food court and leaving. 

…And it’s like the scene has just been unpaused. 

“I’m so sorry, Jeff, I didn’t mean-! Really, it was just, she was asking about you and I thought you might say something dumb so I interjected and I said, I said. Something even dumber, actually, but I’m really sorry.” She finishes off kind of lamely, but really isn’t sure what else there is _to_ say. 

“Annie,” Jeff starts, and there is an uncomfortable hint to his voice but it’s not as if someone else has made him uncomfortable, it’s more like… Well, like he’s screwed up and he’s trying to find a way to apologise for it. (She’s unfortunately reminded of their conversation on one of the study room couches during Model UN, and has to suppress a shudder.) 

“It’s nothing.” He finally settles on, which isn’t exactly what she expected to happen but it’s better than the worst case scenario. (Jeff, mad that Annie would even _imply_ he would ever date her, stalking out of the mall and swearing never to speak to her again. Possibly running off with Britta.) 

“O-kay?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He adds, which of course has the opposite effect of what he intends, but the thought is admirable. 

Annie nods. Waits a moment; the respectable amount of time to move on from this conversation. “So, you still haven’t gotten anything for your mom?” 

“No,” he answers, seemingly glad to be moving onto a different topic. “No, I didn’t see anything in there.” 

“Well, maybe she’d like a nice scarf, or something.” Annie suggests. “Or jewellery. Or maybe, if there’s a movie she really likes, then…” 

“ _So,_ where to next?” 

“First floor?” She tilts her head in the director of the escalator. 

Jeff nods, looks around quickly, and follows. 

* * *

Once they’re off the escalator Annie takes a step to the side, away from the moving horde of people, and mentally catalogues the stores around them, trying to find the ones where they are most likely to find the perfect gift. 

“We can start with Macy’s.” She decides, ignoring Jeff’s groan and myriad of lac-hearted protestations. 

As she waits for a small opening through the crowd that they can cross through, she feels Jeff’s hand slip into hers. 

“Wh-What’re you doing?” She asks immediately, jerking her hand away. 

If Jeff is hurt, he doesn’t show it. “In case we run into Kristen again.” 

“ _Krista.”_ Annie corrects. “And I doubt we will.”

“But what if she finds out we both lied to her?” Jeff prompts, sporting an impressively serious expression. “C’mon, Annie. If we’re gonna do this - which we are, I guess, ‘cause we already committed - then we’ve gotta do it right.” 

She eyes him warily even as she moves her hand back into his. Fearing - and knowing, if she’s being honest - that her palm is sweaty and her hands are maybe trembling a little. 

He’s not looking at her but she stares up at him with wide eyes. 

* * *

And so the rest of the day passes in a similar fashion. Hand in hand, meandering round the stores. Annie’s pretty sure that at some point Jeff must have forgotten the reason he’s at the mall in the first place, because whenever she points out a particularly nice necklace or bracelet that she thinks Mrs. Winger might like, he just shakes his head like he’s been pulled out of a dream, and shrugs noncommittally. 

It’s hard, being so near him. Especially like this. 

She can’t help but wonder what the people around them think. If they pass as a couple. 

In those strangers’ minds, she and Jeff will remain in this way forever. Just any old couple, walking through the mall holding hands. Nothing out of the ordinary, and yet.

They’re passing by an H&M when Jeff suddenly stops, tugging on her hand. She starts to ask what he’s doing but then-

He kisses her.

???

!!!

It’s hard and fast but he brings his free hand up to cup her face anyway, and Annie just sort of. _Falls_ into the kiss. Until she’s clutching at his shoulder without even thinking about it, without even making a conscious decision to do so - but just, it’s _Jeff_ and he’s _kissing her_ and her other hand is still in his. 

But then he moves back, and she finds herself kind of chasing his lips, which is probably embarrassing but she can’t bring herself to feel any shame right now because her brain is fuzzing and spinning and delirious. 

“You-“ She starts, but doesn’t know how to finish. 

“Kirsten.” He jerks his head in front of them where, sure enough, Krista is standing, watching. She shoots her an awkward smile before scurrying away. 

“Right.” Annie replies, hoping her voice doesn’t sound as dazed as she feels. “Right."


	24. (community) five times jeff and annie met under the mistletoe and one time they (technically) didn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much what the title says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> another mistletoe fic, because i couldn't resist! hope you had a happy christmas if you celebrate it, and a great day if you don't!
> 
> ((the formatting got weird when i put it through ao3 idk))

> _1\. Non-denominational winter affection plant._

 “Jeff!” 

He stops walking, the faint hope he had had of vanishing from the holiday party early (so as not to be roped into tidying up) vanishing in an instant. “Yes?” 

“I know you’re leaving,” Annie starts, “and, uh, I won’t tell anyone. But before you go, I just wanted to say that what you did today was - it was really cool.” She’s staring up at him with wide, earnest eyes. “Like, sticking up for Abed and everything.” 

“Oh, right. Um, it was nothing.” 

“Maybe,” but the soft smile on her face tells him she doesn’t quite believe in that sentiment. “I know sometimes we - the group, I mean - annoy you and cramp your style, or whatever, and sometimes you pretend you don’t really care that much, but. I think you do.” 

 He groans inwardly; it’s getting a bit too heartfelt for his liking. “Okay, _maybe_ I care about you guys.” He compromises, mostly to get her to stop talking about it. “A little,” he adds, when she lets out a quiet _aww._

 “Uh-huh, sure.” 

 He’s about to attempt his escape again when Annie glances above his head. If possible, her eyes go even wider, and she starts to fiddle with the now-fraying hem of her Hanukkah sweater.

 And though in any usual situation, he’d ask _what?_ and maybe glance upwards himself to check it out, see what the matter is; he doesn’t have to do any of that right now because he just _knows._ From her reaction and the look on her face and the sudden awkwardness. 

 Annie must catch onto what he’s thinking because she immediately says, “You know, according to the Dean it’s not _really_ mistletoe, it’s actually a non-denominational winter affection plant, so maybe it’s not _mandatory_ to - you know. I mean, as far as I know, _‘winter affection plants’_ don’t have any rituals or- or anything attached to them, so it’s not like we’ve got to-“ She cuts herself off. 

 It shouldn’t be a big deal (and it’s _not_ a big deal, whatsoever, not at all, nope) so Jeff just leans down and kisses her, lightly, on her cheek. 

 He thinks he hears a faint _“ow”_ and draws back, remembering how badly she’s injured from the fight, but instead of pain in her expression, she’s starry-eyed. Which is worse. 

 So, he makes his excuses once and for all and leaves.

* * *

> _2\. Stop-motion._

 “Tell me straight, does my animated form make me look bad?” 

 Annie regards him incredulously. “I’m not seeing Greendale as stop-motion.” 

 "Thank god, I’m not the only one.” Jeff shakes his head. “You know, I can’t tell if Britta and Troy are just _pretending_ to see everything that way to appease Abed, or if they’ve actually slipped into some delusional world where everything is made of animated clay.” 

 “I think Britta’s trying to make up for not helping in the first place.” 

 He tilts his head, like he’s considering it. “In that case, maybe I should start pretending.” There’s a tightness to his voice. 

 “Don’t; I need someone to stay sane with.” 

 Jeff laughs a little, murmurs _‘alright’_ under his breath. 

 Annie’s left standing, shuffling her feet for something to do. The snow on the ground is now sludgy and yellow, and it’s freezing.

 She goes to ask him something else - something to ease the silence a bit - but he’s not even looking at her anymore; he’s watching a fixed point above her head. 

 Already knowing, she looks up. “Mistletoe.” 

 “They’re everywhere, this year.” Jeff remarks. “Apparently,” gesturing around them, “even outside.” 

 She nods like she’s backing up his argument, and takes a couple deep breaths because she honestly doesn’t know how this is going to go. 

 There’s another moment of silence before Jeff speaks again. “You know, this day’s been weird enough already…” 

 “Yeah.” 

 “And according to Abed, we’re still stop-motion.” 

 “So it’s not even like, real-life right now.” Annie follows up, catching on. 

 “Right.” He nods. “It wouldn’t really matter much.”

 “Because it’s not real.” 

 “Exactly.” 

 “So…” She can’t help but wonder if he’s actually going to do it, or if this is all just some sort of cruel game. 

 But then he’s got one hand on her shoulder and he’s leaning down so close she could count his eyelashes, and - ooh. 

 He glances up quickly, just to check, and he must see the certainty in her eyes because he doesn’t hesitate then, just goes right in. Kissing her sweetly and gently, kissing her so she smiles against his lips. 

* * *

> _3\. Glee state of mind._

 She’s still in that ridiculous santa suit, and Jeff doesn’t think the situation can get any stranger. 

 But then she points above his head, and he already knows what’s up there. Fuck. 

 "You don’t have to join Glee club with me, Jeff.” Annie sighs, long-suffering. “But this is tradition.” 

 He wants to argue, tell her no, but she’s sort of wearing the hottest outfit he’s ever seen on her and she’s pouting a little and she has a point, after all, it _is_ tradition. Furthermore, he’s survived her _sexy santa_ song-and-dance (even pre-diminishing returns) without succumbing to Glee and surely one small, chaste kiss won’t change that. 

 So he doesn’t _dis_ courage her exactly, just sits back and raises an eyebrow. Challenges her, wanting to see just how far she’s willing to go for this Glee thing. At most, he’s expecting a giggly, nervous peck on the mouth. 

 He’s definitely _not_ expecting the way she leans right over ( _avertyoureyesavertyoureyesavertyoureyes),_ cups his face in both hands, and kisses him enthusiastically. Kisses him in a way that he can’t help but respond to. 

 (They’ve barely moved apart when the words come tumbling out of his mouth. _“Let’s win Regionals.”)_

* * *

> _4\. Drunk._

 As their originally planned Christmas party was disturbed by the appearance of both Professor Cornwallis and the Dean, the group agree to meet up for drinks the following evening. 

 Due to an obviously-unfairly-rigged match of rock, paper, scissors, Britta is made the designated driver. Though she usually would loathe the prospect of being left out, unable to drink and join in with her friends in their celebrations, she actually finds it quite interesting, watching them all, even making a few quick notes in her phone to follow up and psychoanalyse later. 

 Of course, the only other sober one is Abed, and she tries to stick a little closer to him for the night. He’s easier to buddy-up with, (surprisingly) easier to talk to. 

 Presently he is rambling on about festive TV tropes. Britta’s sort of zoned out - that is, until he points right behind her. 

 “For example.” He says, and she follows his gesture. 

 She glances over, and has to turn right back around again because, _nope._ “Abed, don’t be weird. They’re just - friends.” 

 “Really?” He asks, as if he already knows she’s doubting her own words. 

 “Well, yeah. I mean. It’s - mistletoe, they kind of have to. Bound by tradition, and all that.” 

 “Perhaps.” Abed replies, like he doesn’t believe her but isn’t willing to argue. 

 Britta shrugs and goes back to her virgin cocktail, pushing the straw around for a minute. 

 When she turns back and her companion-in-sobriety is still staring, she tugs his arm. “Abed! Don’t _watch them._ It’s creepy; they’re our friends.” 

* * *

> _5\. Silent night._

 The annual group holiday get-together is low-key this year. Jeff isn’t sure if it’s due to his stay in the hospital, the fact that both Pierce and Troy are gone, or the fact that this will be Shirley’s last Christmas spent with the group for the foreseeable future, but when they all show up on his doorstep, there are no shenanigans, no last-minute invites or breaks from reality. It’s just calm. Pleasant, yes, and happy, and festive, but not the same as previous years, and he isn’t sure if he likes it. 

 Britta suggests watching _Die Hard_ more for Abed’s sake than her own but the aforementioned immediately shuts it down, claiming it to be sacrilegious without Troy there to watch with them, and ultimately everyone agrees. They end up watching _Elf_ and _National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation_ instead, eating takeout food and drinking a respectable amount of mulled wine. 

 The party - if anyone could even call it that - is over by 9pm, and Annie’s the last to leave. 

 “Sorry I didn’t bring decorations this year.” She jokes, weakly. “I didn’t think-“

 “It’s okay. I’m not sure it would’ve changed anything.” 

 She bobs her head, agreeing with him, then lets out a long sigh. “Tonight was weird.” 

 “I know, right?” 

 Plucking at invisible threads on her sweater - red, with a pattern of small sprigs of mistletoe - she adds, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 

 “Christmas Eve? I don’t know. The usual. Call my mom, debate whether to go home for Christmas Day or not.” 

 Another nod, then a faint smile. “I guess I’ll get going, then.” 

 “Right,” he wasn’t really expecting this; he had thought she’d try to prolong the conversation, somehow. “Sure. I’ll see you soon, and, uh. Happy holidays.” 

 “Happy holidays.” She echoes, leaning up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, hugging him firmly. Before he has the chance to move away, she murmurs, “Take care of yourself.” 

 Jeff nods when she pulls away, and for whatever reason, doesn’t even question his impulse to bend down and kiss her. Maybe because it’s Christmas, or because this night has been weird, or because she’s Annie and he wants to kiss her more often than not. 

 It’s chaste but she hums into his mouth and clutches at his shoulder, and then when it’s over, smiles tiredly, exhaustedly, before saying her goodbyes. 

* * *

> _And one time they (technically) didn’t._

 “What’re you doing?” 

 She’s dragged the step-stool out of the closet and into the living room, and is now standing atop it., both hands behind her back. Still wearing his shirt. 

 “Annie?” 

 “Come here.” There’s a mischievous glint to her eyes that has him padding over, despite the fact that it’s 8am on Christmas morning and he’s not even dressed yet. 

 Standing in front of her, they’re almost level, the step-stool giving her added height. From here, he can tell there’s something clasped in her hands, but he can’t see what. 

 “I’m making this super easy on you.” She says, grinning, and shifts the object she’s holding to one hand before raising it high in the air, above both of their heads. 

 "Seriously?” He asks, kind of bemused. 

 Annie nods, still smiling. It’s infectious and he finds himself beaming back at her. “Well?” 

 “Well, what?” He’s dragging it out just to tease her and she knows it. 

 “Are you gonna kiss me, or not?” 

 “I don’t know,” he pretends to consider, barely holding back a laugh at her increasingly frustrated expression. “I guess you’ll just have to-“ 

 She cuts him off with her mouth on his.


	25. (community) happy new year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The countdown for New Year has started but Jeff is nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fandom: Community  
> characters: Jeff Winger, Annie Edison, Abed Nadir  
> relationship: Jeff/Annie  
> rating: G
> 
> well, this is it, folks.

She’s in the middle of listening to a particularly saddening Britta-monologue about the dairy industry when the countdown starts. 

_“Ten!”_

“Sorry, I’ll be right back!” Annie promises, before scurrying off in search of Jeff. 

_“Nine!”_

She hasn’t seen him in a while, not since Britta managed to pull her away, and although the party is just contained in her tiny apartment she can’t find him anywhere.

_“Eight!”_

Maybe the bathroom, she wonders, but the door down the hall is wide open. There’s no one in there.

_“Seven!”_

Or perhaps the kitchen…? She wanders over, narrowly dodging Frankie and her martini, but the only person in there is Magnitude. Annie returns his _“pop pop!”_ with a thumbs up. 

_“Six!”_

Out of the kitchenette, back into the main floor. “Oh! De- I mean, Craig, do you know where Jeff is?” 

“Jeffrey? Oh, so you can-“ 

_“Five!”_

“-lock lips?” 

She cringes at his phrasing, but nods, leaning up on her toes to try and get a better look around. 

“You know, as much as I am supportive of yours and Jeffrey’s _endeavours,_ I really don’t think it’s considerate to-“ 

_“Four!”_

“Sorry, Dean, gotta go!” 

“Call me Craig!” 

_“Three!”_

The only place she hasn’t checked yet is round the corner - the one unoccupied area of the apartment, in the corner with the window near Britta’s door. But surely he won’t be- 

_“Two!”_

There! She spots him, finally, hunched over with earphones in, balancing his phone against the wall. It looks like he’s laughing at something. Annie rushes over faster than she would care to admit. 

_“One!”_

She’s directly behind him and notices the figure in the frame of his phone - Abed. It’s still just turning 11pm there, but she guesses he wanted to join in on the festivities from back in LA. 

“Sorry, Abed,” she mutters, not caring if he can even hear her.

_Quickly._

She grabs the scarf around his neck (style purposes, not because he actually needs it, it’s like a billion degrees inside the apartment, jeez) pulls him down to her level and kisses him hard and fast. 

_“Happy New Year!”_

He’s clearly not expecting it at first but soon catches on, and the phone clatters to the floor, ripping the earphones out and landing in a coil. But Jeff doesn’t seem to care much; his hands clutching at her waist to pull her closer. 

Annie tears herself away a moment later, mostly due t the necessity of breath rather than an actual wish to stop. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Your phone-“ 

“It’s okay, it’s not broken.” Jeff bends down to pick it up, showing the screen to Annie. “See?”

Abed’s saying something, but with the earphones still plugged in she can’t hear a word of it, so she tugs them out and smiles sheepishly, apologetically, into the camera. “Sorry.” Again, so that this time he can actually hear her.

“It’s fine,” he replies dismissively. “I was expecting it.” 

“Of course you were.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who's read/commented/prompted over the course of this month! you're the best!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> accepting prompts - just specify fandom! reply to [this post](http://rather-be-free.tumblr.com/post/153913099778/rather-be-free-hey-so-im-gonna-be) or [shoot me an ask](http://rather-be-free.tumblr.com/ask) (I'm @rather-be-free !!)


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